Survival
by nonamas
Summary: The New Directions and The Warblers have been sent to Holly Holiday's Wonderful Wilderness World for a week to learn the arts of surviving and training for the outdoors. However things don't kick off to a great start. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Survival  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Spoilers (if any): <strong>None  
><strong>Warnings (if any):<strong> AU  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 3,071  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The New Directions and The Warblers have been sent to _Holly Holiday's Wonderful Wilderness World_ for a week to learn the arts of surviving and training for the outdoors. Things don't kick off to a great start and they all suspect its's going to be a _long _week.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Glee- I merely play with RM's creations. I also do not own any of the songs used in this fic.

* * *

><p>The words "wilderness", "training" and "Kurt Hummel" should <em>never <em>be strung together in the same sentence.

That's what Kurt had scathingly and almost pityingly replied back to an energetic and vest-clad Mr Shue—who'd just told them they're going on a_ camping trip _of all things.

"Oh, Kurt it'd be so much fun! Think of it guys!" their teacher had said, getting way too delighted over a wilderness expedition. "Late night camp fires, bonding time, fending for ourselves—I used to do it all the time when I was your age! It's fun and I know you'd love it!" he'd finished, swinging his marker pen at them in an encouraging manner.

"Someone must have given you the wrong dictionary, Mr Shue because no freaking way is that my definition of fun." Kurt countered and his words were met with various nods from other Glee members.

Mr Shue frowned and opened his mouth to speak again when Rachel Berry interrupted (Kurt inwardly sighed) with a determined, "I for one love going on camping trip with my Dads. Both of which are gay. My gay Dad's and I think it's a wonderful experience and I'm quite trained in the arts of camping and singing by the camp fire." She beamed at them and drew herself up to her full height as she stood by Mr Shue excitedly (_still could get into _Lord of The Rings _though _Kurt thought_) _and bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Sorry, Mr Shue, but there's no way I'm sleeping outside on some skanky ground and not have access to clean water and sanitary environments." Santana quipped.

Mr Shue just frowned some more and then said quite firmly, "Too bad. I thought you all might do it willingly, but you have no choice anyway. Figgins is saying it's compulsory. You're all gonna have to go regardless."

The chorus of voices struggling to be heard- with the various, "Aw _hell _to the no, Mr Shue!", "I'd rather go back to juvie than go camping!", "How am I supposed to fit all my goth stuff in one suitcase?" and the whispered "I wonder if we'll see any unicorns in the forest" by Brittany- was quickly silenced by Mr Shue's "Enough!" The din died down.

"You're all _going _on this camping trip and you're going to _like _it, really." He sighed. "Look, I now you aren't excited now but wait 'til you're out there. You'll love it, just give it a chance!"

Kurt wasn't listening. Kurt was too busy trying to control the shrill mantra in his head that was saying quite loudly, _how am I supposed to keep up my disciplined skin routine if I'm freaking _camping? _What am I going do about clothes? Toiletries? My _hair_? Oh God oh God . . ._

He'd have to get out of it somehow. Fake an illness he hadn't _already _faked. Convince his Dad it was much more important of him too stay and look after him. What if something happened in the week he wasn't there because he was playing pally with Rachel Berry and harmonizing with a ukulele?

His Dad would see sense and would be willing to not let him go.

* * *

><p>His Dad was all <em>for <em>it, of course. He'd thought it'd be fun for Kurt, and Burt had always enjoyed camping himself. Kurt had bit back a retort at how his Dad had also enjoyed trucker caps and bad country music as a kid (and still did now, to Kurt's small horror) but instead nodded and began to try and fit everything he'd need into one suitcase.

"You look like you're being asked to walk the green mile," Burt had chuckled, watching his son, who was morosely packing as though he was being sent to the gallows.

"It's the same thing isn't it?" Kurt had snapped.

Burt sighed. "I'm sure you'll love it. You need to be with your friends." He suddenly hugged Kurt and Kurt clung back, surprised. His Dad never denied Kurt affection, however awkwardly it was, but this was a bit unexpected. "I wouldn't tell you to go if I didn't think you'd enjoy it, Kurt. This isn't a punishment. I honestly think you'll like it. You never know; it might just be one of the most memorable things of your life."

Kurt felt a prickle at the words but just snorted fondly. "Yeah, _right." _

Burt patted his back awkwardly and then walked out of his bedroom. Kurt stared at the empty doorway for a moment before sighing.

_The things I do for love. . ._

* * *

><p>The bus trip on the way to "Holly Holiday's Wonderful Wilderness World" (<em>and that was just all <em>kinds _of lame) _was already contradicting his father's words.

It had been hard enough trying to fit all of his clothes he wanted to takemostinto just _one _bag ("_one _bag Kurt, _one" _his father had said firmly) and then try and find space for all his hair and skin products. This—listening to the boys of New Directions sing awful 90's hits and the girls chatter aimlessly about their boy troubles—was not something he wanted. He'd rather be at home reading Vogue in bed then on a bus that smelled of bad sandwiches and gas.

The three hour ride had never felt so _long._

* * *

><p><em>Gaga have mercy on his soul.<em>

Holly Holidays Wonderful Wilderness World (it didn't get any less lame no matter how many times he said it) was far, _far _worse than he could have predicted.

The entrance was tatty and made of a chipped and cracked wood that was stained from the continuous rain. The bus drove them through and Kurt stared, appalled, out of the dirty windows of the bus.

From what he could see, in one section was a fenced off park; there were jungle gyms and ropes and climbing frames that looked rusty and ready to crumble under the slightest touch.

In another section was a large, cleared out space surrounded by logs and stumps. In the centre of the oval-shaped space was what looked like charred dirt. No way was his McQueen going anywhere near _that. _The bus stopped about a foot away and Kurt couldn't take his eyes away from the horrific sight.

"This—is—awful." he hissed at Mercedes, who chuckled and smacked his shoulder lightly.

"It's got _character." _she said, and grinned when he rolled his eyes in disgust.

Rachel was the first one off of the bus and Kurt had long ago stopped retching over her outfit—lumber jacket and black leggings and appalling boots that looked about five sizes too big and a furry deer stalker cap—she looked like Sherlock Holmes in a bad trucker movie.

"Come on! We have to go _explore! _Think how fun this is going to be, you guys!" she chirruped and Kurt had every mind to run back onto the departing bus and crawl under the seats and hide until he was back in Ohio and away from this nightmare.

The New Directions traipsed over to the centre of the dirty land and converged around the logs and seemingly camp fire. Their bags were at their feet and Kurt couldn't get over how _cold _it was.

The door to a small, badly put together hut opposite where they were standing opened and from it emerged a tall, blonde woman who was smiling _way _too brightly given the circumstances, Kurt thought.

"Hey guys!" she crowed, enthusiasm coming off her in waves. She approached in tasteful khakis and a sweater. "Welcome to Holly Holiday's Wonderful Wilderness World! I'm Holly Holiday- and no, I didn't come up with the name!" she winked and grinned. Kurt just raised an eyebrow at the blonde bombshell and decided not to comment.

"I'm Will Shuester." Mr Shue stepped forward, hand outstretched. Holly simply batted his hand away and placed her fingers at his temples.

"Will . . . Will . . . Will . . ." she repeated quietly, staring into their startled teacher's eyes. New Directions exchanged looks and Kurt decided this woman was batshit _crazy._

Holly grinned. "I have to do that to process who you are—I'm no good with names so I just remember the _feel _of people. Now I'll remember you forever!"

Mr Shue just stared still, a bit stunned.

Holly turned to them. "So who's ready to begin _camping!" _she did some weird hand movement enthusiastically and was met with half hearted cheers and an enthusiastic squeal from Rachel.

"Excellent! _Well, _to begin we gotta get you guys into cabins!" the grin on the blonde's face was now scary and Kurt felt frightened for some odd reason. "You've been sorted into cabins already and work groups and then pairs—that way we get to work all sorts of ways!"

"What exactly are we gonna be doing?" Finn asks, arms folded and hunched up.

"Trekking, mountain climbing, training programmes, survival tactics, you name it, we're doing it!" Holly sang and clapped her hands together. "There's another thing too."

Oh _now _it's going to get good, Kurt thought bitterly. She's going to tell us that the toilets don't work or something or that they don't have hot water—

"It's not just us here this week!" Holly beamed and winked again. "You'll be sharing this little holiday with two other groups! Both will be working with you on your various things here and some of them will even be sharing cabins with you! All about bonding, kids!"

New Directions stared at her, bewildered and put out.

_No chance in _hell, Kurt thought blandly. He wasn't staying with some unfamiliar kid for a week that would no doubt be a closeted homophobe and stress him out even _more_ and wouldn't that just be the crappy icing on the already foul cake-?

"Can you guys hear something?" Sam suddenly said, his head turned towards the entrance that was hidden by thick trees.

Kurt listened.

A low melody was making its way to them and the low sound of clicking and a steady beat reverberated and around the silent camp. Voices were making sounds and melodies and they echoed pleasantly in the still air. Kurt listened intently and scrolled through his inner track list of songs from nearly every decade— they were singing Nsync and Phil Colins's version of Trashin' The Camp he believed. He almost laughed—it was wildly appropriate, and the owners of the melodic voices obviously agreed.

Whoever was signing it was _good. _It sounded like a whole crowd of voices and Kurt could pick out the individual beat boxing rhythm that only a human voice could make and the flow of the words.

Stamping and throwing their hands up in chorus, a group of casually dressed boys rounded the corner and emerged from the trees, all of them singing and laughing in harmony.

Kurt stared.

The leads were bouncing and high fiving each other enthusiastically, dancing and twirling and making random dance moves as they clapped and moved further towards them.

Kurt's eyes were drawn to the boy obviously in charge—he sang the main melody and seemed to be leading the group as they walked. He was short and bounced more than the rest and reminded him of a puppy or a five year old on E-numbers. Curly haired and harmonizing perfectly, he seemed to be grinning widest of them all.

The boys stopped when they saw the New Directions and the last of the melody faded away. They stood panting and still grinning broadly, facing New Directions with their bags slung over their shoulders.

Holly started clapping and laughing first; New Directions and Mr Shue followed suit and with a little laugh, the lead boy of the group gave a small bow and the others did the same.

"New Directions, these are the _Warblers!" _Holly cheered and clapped the short boy on the shoulder. "From Ohio like you but they go to school at Dalton Academy, I believe. How you guys _doing?" _

Kurt stared at the boys shrewdly. They looked friendly enough but then again, so did a bear right before it tore you to pieces.

Mr Shue stepped forward and offered his hand to the shorter boy. "I'm Mr Shue, coach of New Directions. I heard about you guys—you're Blaine right?"

"Blaine Anderson, sir." The boy called Blaine shook Mr Shue's hand and gave him a polite smile. He caught Kurt's eye suddenly and Kurt flushed before turning back to Holly.

"So who's ready to get _camping?" _Holly crowed, bounding round and throwing out high fives and fist bumps. "This is gonna be awesome! Now the other group won't be here until tomorrow, but we're gonna sort the cabins out now—unless you all wanna sleep out here tonight?" She winked and grinned and then pulled out a sheet of paper from her pocket.

"Right, here goes-!" Holly began rattling off names and Kurt kept his fingers crossed inside his pockets that he'd end up sharing with Mercedes or Tina. It'd be just his luck . . .

_Please not Rachel or someone I don't know. Please . . . Please . . ._

"Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones-"

He relaxed his shoulders in relief. Mercedes hooked her arm through his and said quietly, "Looks like we lucked out, boy. Look at all those _boys._"

He rolled his eyes—but she had a point. The boys in question were all looking at New Directions curiously and Kurt's inner gay-dar was going wild at a few. Blaine Anderson? Gay.

"Okay, you're all sorted!" Holly smiled and started pointing out their cabins to them and when they should all come back here and where to put their bags and where the toilets are and showers. Kurt only half listens, more interested in when he can cleanse all this stale air out of his skin and take a nap and gossip with Mercedes.

It seemed that apparently the Glee members liked to mingle now, because as soon as Holly began talking privately with Mr Shue the intrigued New Directions moved forward and attached themselves to the Warblers. He could distinctly hear Rachel saying something about set lists and truces and cheating. He rolled his eyes and intended to wade in and save _somebody _from her when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned, Mercedes still hanging on his arm. The apparent lead singer, Blaine, stood smiling up at Kurt jovially. Mercedes looked between the two and carefully extracted herself from Kurt.

_What is she doing, is she seriously leaving me alone with . . . Where are you going woman?_

Mercedes excused herself with a giggled, "I'll go see where Tina is . . ." and left the two alone.

Kurt felt abandoned and a little like he was lost at sea and _she was going to pay later. Pay with her life._

"Kurt, right?" Blaine said, holding out his hand.

Kurt stayed frozen, feeling completely humiliated and having no idea what to do.

Blaine lowered his hand. "Can I . . . Um— I . . . . Well, Kurt-"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and had a vague idea where this might be going. It was pretty obvious, anyway with what Kurt was wearing. He didn't mean to be so _flamboyant, _but he'd felt down and the only thing that truly perked him up these days was taking time finding an outfit and sorting out pieces and knowing he looked _good _in said outfits. "Are you trying to ask if I'm gay?"

Blaine smiled. "Maybe, yeah."

Kurt smiled properly and looked around so not to stare at Blaine. The merge of New Directions kids and Warblers hovered somewhere over by the logs and campfire and Kurt heard snatches of song and laughter. They were alone by the trees.

"So, happy you're here?" Blaine asked, somewhat awkwardly.

Kurt laughed. It sounded harsher than he meant. "Are you serious? They just about _forced _me to come. Like I'd really want to spend a week in the middle of nowhere acting like I'm in the Dark Ages!"

Blaine smirked a little. "Yeah well, I guess it'll be fun once you give it a chance. It depends how you look at it. I assume all the girls brought their best clothes and makeup expecting a holiday spa?" Blaine laughed.

Kurt sniffed. "I don't know about the holiday spa, but I don't see the harm in wanting to look good."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? It's the wilderness, you're gonna get dirty—"

"But at least you're not looking _horrendous _while doing so."

"Oh come on, its simple logic. Like you're gonna wear fashionable things while crawling through mud-"

In some way, Kurt suspected Blaine was mocking him. And _oh, _no way was this seemingly uber polite gay guy going to mock him.

"At least try and be sensible. I mean, I get you might be seeking attention if it's anything by your stuck up attitude-"

"Stuck _up? _You don't know the first _thing _about me, you insufferable-" Kurt was turning red, he knew it. "Excuse me for taking pride in how I look—unlike you. Hello, the seventies called. They want their hipster crap back."

"Oh I'm _sorry, _Mr Priss. Excuse _me _for not wanting to make a damn fool of myself by looking like a cross between a tube of glitter and a chicken!"

"What would you know about fashion—again, have you _seen _what you're wearing Mr I—Try—To—Be-So—Masculine—To—Make—Up—For—My—Gay!" Kurt spat, crossing his arms.

"What, you expect me to look like some sparkly feather _boa _instead? Seriously, could you _look _any more ridiculous?" Blaine retorted, face screwed up.

"You know what looks ridiculous? A slap mark on your freaking cheek!" Kurt said shrilly, and then slapped Blaine.

The slap resounded through the now silent camp. Kurt turned on his heel and found every eye on the two of them. He simply sniffed haughtily and strode over to Mercedes. He gripped her by the arm, muttering murderous threats about her _ruing _the day and stormed to their cabin. He flung open the door and then disappeared inside. The slam echoed behind them.

His father had said this wasn't a punishment, but he felt drained and worn out already.

It was going to be a _long _week.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The amazing response to my first fic here was so encouraging- thank you to everyone who reviewed and favourited, I was so surprised and happy! It also gave me the courage (lul, look at me channeling Blaine) to post this an AU multi-chaptered fic I began writing on LJ after seeing an amazing prompt. It's AU because the Warblers and ND don't know each other- therefore, neither do Kurt and Blaine. I'm incredibly nervous about this because this usually isn't the sort of thing I write, but anyway. I'll stop with the long A/N. The song the Warblers are singing as they come in is "Trashin' The Camp" by Phil Colins and NSync.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So I find a spare moment to check my emails (during the time I'm trying to not get buried under coursework and revision) and I think I had a heart attack from all the alerts and favourites this story has gotten- thank you all so _much. _I'm so happy and I'm so, so glad you like it!

This is the second part to this fic and I hope you all like! I really hope I can update this quickly and not keep you waiting for ages, but my coursework is in a corner of my room staring at me irritably. It's going to eat me soon and unfortunatly it has to be done. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can! The song used is Teenagers by My Chemical Romance (because yes, this fic relies heavily on songs).

* * *

><p>"Jesus, Blaine. There's actually someone who doesn't <em>like <em>you!"

"Shut up, Brad."

Blaine hadn't mean to snap but Wes decided at the moment Brad made his comment to press the cold pack to Blaine's throbbing cheek and _damn, _that hurt.

He was angry, and a little shocked and a lot ashamed. He'd lost control—something he _never _did—and had for some wild reason lashed out and hit back. What the hell was a matter with him?

Like he'd even wanted to come on this trip anyway. His father had _forced _him out of the door practically. His father had said, "Camping's a man's world, son. Go, spend some time with the lads getting your hands dirty." and Blaine knew it was a veiled comment about his sexuality _again. _He'd bit back the dirty implications he could take from that sentence and packed his bags with a finality in his movements. It was just another attempt for his father to not only seem interested in Blaine's life by encouraging him but also to find _another _way to try and make him straight. It was the lesser of two evils—his father must hope that he'd come back from the this trip straight and able to put up a tent without wanting to make an inappropriate, spiteful Brokeback reference.

"You alright though, Blaine? You look a little white. . ." Thad asked, looking at Blaine from upside down on Blaine's bed.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'm fine. I've been hit worse. He'd probably pack a good punch if it wasn't for the fact he was the most feminine of everyone here."

There was silence and Nick whistled under his breath.

"Dude, he really hacked you off didn't he? You've never said _anything _bad about anybody." Thad said, grinning. Blaine turned away from him, wondering again why he'd let all the Warblers rest in his and David's cabin until they had to go back to the camp.

"Unresolved sexual tension sounds like . . ." Brad mumbled and Blaine threw the cold pack at him. Brad yelped and rubbed at his shoulder.

"No but seriously Blaine, you were arguing in less than a _minute. _You charm _everybody. _Did you call his mother something? You must have said something bad for him to react like that."

"All I did was _try _to make a joke!" Blaine spluttered. Why did they keep thinking it was _his _fault? _Kurt _had been the one to over react and look down his nose at Blaine. He'd only tried to be polite. The kid had looked lonely and it was painfully obvious he was gay that even Blaine felt straight. And _woah, _that was insensitive and harsh—what was this boy _doing _to him? Kurt made him feel like his father made Blaine feel—like he could finally see how he was really feeling, actually feel the negative thoughts that came to him instead of pushing them back and acting excited and happy. Kurt made him want to look at himself in the mirror and change the Blaine he thought he was—and that was a bad, bad thing.

Wes put his hand to Blaine's forehead and cooed mockingly. "Sure you aren't coming down with something? Maybe he just slapped the nice right out of you or something . . ."

"Wes, don't make me kick you and the merry band of men out of _mine _and David's cabin. I really will."

Wes crawled onto David's bed and huffed. "It's a sad, sad day when Warbler Blaine snaps at _me. _Don't make me release the short jokes, Anderson. We're only trying to help." David clucked in agreement and Blaine rolled his eyes at the pair.

"The atmosphere in here is giving me the skeevies—what happened to all our happy singing and stuff earlier when we arrived?" Luke asked, speaking for the first time. He was facing the wall with his back to the other boys around him and spoke in the far off way Luke always did.

"Luke, you weren't even singing. Keller had to go back and fetch you because you got distracted by the trees." Thad muttered, casting a wary glance at their fellow Warbler.

"Still nice though . . ." Luke sighed.

They were silent as each boy exchanged glances. Nothing was said.

Blaine kept his thoughts to himself. He'd just never been _slapped _before. There was something more dramatic and sharp about a slap. A punch was blunt and brutal and derogatory. A slap was quick and _stung. _It was _humiliating. _The boy was a maniac! You don't go round _slapping _people after two minutes of conversation, no matter what they say. Blaine certainly didn't. Though from what he gathered from Kurt's sharp tongue and his proud posture told him that Kurt was used to fighting; his quick retorts had shown that. The boy must use the sarcasm to hide _something. _Blaine was sure Kurt didn't go round cutting people to ribbons with his poison laced words, right? Otherwise he'd have no friends and apparently Kurt Hummel did.

Kurt Hummel must obviously be one of those people you instantly don't connect with. Bad chemistry, or friction, or something like that to make the two boys clash in such a way. Blaine liked _everyone. _That was part of him—he was a charmer and a performer and the one the Warblers pushed forward to speak to parents and governors and excitable camp reps. Kurt Hummel didn't like him? Well, that was no skin off his back.

(And yet the thought that someone didn't like Blaine as a personmade Blaine's stomach crawl unpleasantly and his cheek throb even more.)

* * *

><p>He didn't know exactly what to do—so, ever the dramatic, Kurt let out a high keen and san, unceremoniously, onto one of the twin beds in the small cabin.<p>

The insides of the cabins made him as devoid of hope as the outside. This really was going to be a disastrous week if the interior design was anything to go by.

The bed spreads were an awful maroon colour, orange thread embroiled to create the pattern of an ugly flower.

He ignored Mercedes as she stood at the closed door, bitch face in place and hands on hips.

"What was _that?" _she scoffed, gesturing with a hand to outside.

Kurt made an undignified noise and looked at her from upside down. "I don't even _know. Urgh." _He had rolled over and sat up. "I just got so _defensive _and I couldn't help it—the guys a hypocritical jerk. Urgh, I hate gays like that. The fact haven't met many gay guys yet aside. You _know _I just say things I don't mean when I feel uncomfortable and the guy was _mocking _my clothes and I felt really insecure okay? So I just . . ._Yeah." _Kurt had slumped back again. "And now I guess I slapped him."

He'd always been prone to melodramatics and he really _did _feel bad about slapping Blaine—but he couldn't bring himself to want to forgive the boy. In the space of two minutes he'd made Kurt feel naked and like he was being judged for something. Like he was putting up a facade and Blaine knew the glitter and feathers were just a part of that armour—and the fact he could _think _about this and believe it might be true. Well, he didn't want to think about the implications of that. The boy was obviously a hypocrite and a misogynist—Kurt wasn't exactly going to waste his breath on guys like _that, _gay or not. He still shook slightly from anger and breathed through his nose sharply.

"What happened anyway?" Mercedes asked, coming to sit by him and pat his knee.

"Well, how much did you hear?"

"None of the actual conversation. Pretty much all of the arguing."

Kurt sighed. "I think they were both the same thing really. He just—_He insulted my _clothes, _Mercedes!"_

Mercedes smiled indulgently and walked over to her own bed.

Then Kurt remembered.

"And _you! _It's your fault, you left me _with _him! Why did you . . .?"

Mercedes sighed and shook her head slightly, tuning out of the conversation but Kurt needed something to vent to (he'd much rather vent angrily about a pocket-sized gay to her than her abandonment but he didn't want to see like he cared all that much). She'd just have to put up with him until he was done.

* * *

><p>When Kurt and Mercedes left their cabin to rendezvous at the camp fire the sun had already began setting. Kurt thought it looked pretty, despite of where he was. The sky was tinged with a gold and pink hue and the sun dangled low in the sky, the trees almost purposely covering it with their long branches in an almost artistic way.<p>

"Admiring the view?" Mercedes smirked beside him.

He looked at her in confusion and looked back to where he was staring—Blaine and four other guys had just appeared there, smiling and laughing. She'd meant _them?_

Kurt huffed. "Oh _Gaga _no."

She laughed and looped her arm through his and walked them toward the group already by the slightly lit fire.

Kurt inconspicuously glanced at Blaine as he settled himself on a damp log. He snorted quietly to himself when he saw the red tinge to Blaine's cheek and the imprint of fingers. _Ha._

As the rest of the two glee clubs settled themselves around the campfire—which was steadily growing and heating them up comfortably—Kurt looked around. In the dark, lit only by a few lanterns and the fire light, Wonderful Wilderness World (he should put a better name in the suggestion box outside Holly's hut because it was starting to hurt a bit every time he said it) looked . . . alright. It still didn't look like at all what he was expecting, but without the help of natural light he couldn't see the group of shabby cabins strung together in pairs, or the rusted park or the roped off trail that led to some training programme deep in the trees.

He could see the stars out here, away from Ohio's gases and lights. They twinkled down at him, and Kurt looked around at his friends laughing and singing and at the fire roaring merrily. He wasn't about to get his hopes up but there was a very good chance this week could salvage itself and turn out pretty OK.

Holly and Mr Shue made their way over to them from Holly's hut and now everyone was seated the excitement was tangible.

The noise grew louder and Kurt found himself feeling the excitement too and he grinned, squeezing Mercedes arm.

Then someone began humming out a tune and Puck, two seats from Kurt beamed and stood up and started clapping out a beat. He saw the Warblers grin and stare at each other giddily. They stood up in one's and two's and then Finn stood and, pulling up Rachel, began to sing:

"_They're gonna clean up your looks,  
>With all the lies and the books,<br>To make a citizen out of you,  
>Because they sleep with a gun and keep<br>An eye on you, son so they can watch all the things you do"_

Kurt rolled his eyes but laughed as Finn danced awkwardly around them, pulling up various New Directions and Warblers. The all boy a cappella group sang along, dancing and giving out high fives. Mercedes pulled Kurt up and Kurt started clapping along with the rest. Sam got up and danced with Finn, singing:

"_Because the drugs never work, they're gonna give you a smirk  
>'Cause they got methods of keeping you clean,<br>They gonna rip up your heads  
>Your aspirations to shreds<br>Another clog in the murder machine"_

Kurt danced with Mercedes around the fire, catching sight of a frozen Holly Holiday and Mr Shue.

The Warblers had finally mixed with New Directions and everyone sang at once, the sound deafeaning.

"_They say that teenagers scare the living crap outta me,  
>They can't care less as long as someone'll bleed<br>So tuck in your clothes  
>I'll strike a violent pose<br>Maybe they'll leave you alone but not me!"_

New Directions faced the Warblers and the Warblers provided the melody and beat while new Directions clapped and laughed.

Kurt somehow ended up wedged between Tina and Quinn and couldn't hardly hold himself up for laughing. Then both groups turned toward Mr Shue and Holly and started marching forward, singing and dancing together. They pointed at the two stunned adults.

"_All together now!_

_They say that teenagers scare the living crap outta me,  
>They can't care less as long as someone'll bleed<br>So tuck in your clothes  
>I'll strike a violent pose<br>Maybe they'll leave you alone but not me!"_

They finished singing and Holly and Mr Shue clapped, broad smiles on their faces. Kurt grinned and sank back down on a log, forgetting just for a moment curly—haired distractions and crappy camping trips and letting himself be feel giddy and high on the emotions around him.


	3. Chapter 3

When Kurt was around nine or ten years old and the death of his mother was still fresh on his and his father's mind, his Dad had been too preoccupied with the loss of his wife to really _see _Kurt for a while. Kurt hadn't been able to act like a kid and throw tantrums or demand his father's attention because he knew despite whatever he might do, he simply wouldn't get it. His father had spent more time in his shop than at home and Kurt had sat with his father on a low bench while Burt had worked on a rusty car. Kurt had watched him and wondered exactly why his Daddy hardly smiled anymore.

He missed his mother terribly but Kurt knew looking back years on that he'd never known the grief his father was going through. Not until it had hit him years later when he'd sat in his parents old bedroom (his Dad had moved to the spare room), and was clearing out their wardrobe.

At the bottom of the cupboard had sat a small velvet box, around the same size as a shoe box. He'd carefully pried it out with his fingertips and ignoring the musty smell that inhabited it he'd opened the lid cautiously.

He'd found photo's of his mother, lying in the black silk folds of material in the box. Smiling photo's and photo's of his parents together. Kurt had understood what he was seeing. He was suddenly hurting like someone had punched a hole through his heart and his hands shook because it _smelled _like her and the woman in the photo's _couldn't _be his Mom—this woman looked ethereal and maternal and soft and sharp like lightening all at once. It hit Kurt suddenly that he'd never _known _his mother. He could remember fuzzy smiles and the warm trail of fingertips but he never knew the women he'd called Mom. The grief and loss hit him and he had lain on his side, clutching the crinkled photo's to him like they were lost treasures and for the first time, cried over his dead mother.

* * *

><p>Kurt had awoken at dawn from a particular messy dream—he didn't usually dream at all, but something about this place unlocked memories and thoughts he wasn't exactly ready to face on a daily basis.<p>

Mercedes was still asleep across from him in her own bed; he lay on his back, lazily watching the sun stream through the shuttered window.

So began his first day at Wonderful Wilderness World.

* * *

><p>"So, who's ready for some radical roaming?" Holly yelled.<p>

_No way. _He wasn't going _anywhere _with a woman who'd just described 'roaming' as _radical. _It was a death wish and he simply did not wish to die just yet.

Holly rattled off about mountains and trails and what they were going to do be doing because it was their first day at camp and she wanted to start them off on something "tame". Apparently that meant climbing up mountains.

He wasn't going. He'd stay here and clean the cabins, cook the dinner—_anything. _He wasn't going anywhere near those woods.

He had no choice in the matter though; Mercedes pulled him up and with a threat to throw all his skincare products in the lake, had convinced him to go (though Kurt swore up and down it was really blackmail and she was going to regret it big time).

He complained loudly as he picked his bag up off of the floor and Blaine, who chose that particular moment to walk past (Kurt suspected he had a _thing _for choosing the most infuriating moments) heard Kurt's rant.

"Calm down, Hummel. I'm sure your clothes won't get ruined _that _badly," He glanced over the artfully paint-splattered jeans. "But with clothes like that you might _want _them to get ruined_. . ."_

Kurt ignored the weak insult and turned, smiling pleasantly at Blaine. "You should watch yourself today, Blaine. I hear there's some pretty low hanging trees. You might have to get on your tiptoes to reach them, but I'm sure you'll hurt yourself one way or another." A barely veiled threat and a jab at his height- check.

Blaine scowled and huffed off. Kurt raised an eyebrow at the Warblers he'd left behind.

An Asian boy raised his hands in mock surrender. "Truce! Seriously, we're just his soldiers. Our commander may have beef with you, but you know. We don't take sides."

Kurt raised his chin a little higher as the boys stalked off.

Mercedes just stared at him.

"What?" he said reproachfully, already walking after the swiftly retreating group.

"Oh, boy. You got it _bad."_

He didn't want to ask her what he'd apparently _got. _He didn't really want to know.

They walked slowly down the designated path and by the time the trees got a little denser and the grass a little firmer beneath them the sun was already up. Kurt walked with Mercedes, Tina and Quinn and they talked aimlessly, but all the while Kurt kept his eye on the back of Blaine's head. The shorter boy walked a few feet in front of them with the other Warblers and Kurt heard them talking quietly.

He didn't know what it was but he felt an instant _dislike _for Blaine. Unlike the others, who'd been charmed by Blaine, Kurt had felt put off and like the boy was a fake.

Kurt couldn't judge him too well- he knew nothing about Blaine. Yet there was an underlying current of _something _under the polite and smiling front. Kurt felt both drawn to pull back Blaine's layers and leave him the hell alone.

It was this quiet musing that made him forget to watch where he was walking—one slip and suddenly his foot was falling through earth and then he went tumbling forward.

One minute he was falling, the next he was face down in a patch of squidgy mud, mouth filled with dirt.

He didn't know who laughed first but it sounded uncannily like Blaine.

Kurt sat up and stared down at himself. He was _covered _in dirt. Right from his hair to his toes. _No freaking _way.

He glared darkly at Blaine, who was practically hugging a tree to keep himself upright. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he was laughing so hard no sound was coming out.

Kurt stood shakily and wiped some of the mud from his face. He shuddered at the things now mixing with his perfect skin and his eyes welled. Oh God, how _humiliating. _His mouth curved up angrily at the sight of a still laughing Blaine. He gathered the wet, sloppy mud into his palm and strode forward toward him.

Four arms pulled him back and he felt someone lower his hand forcibly.

"Now now, Kurt." Mr Shue said and Kurt swore Mr Shue was grinning.

Kurt breathed heavily, eyes still glued to Blaine. The _infuriating _boy was now smirking, arms folded smugly. His hands tingled, itching to slap the smirk _right _off his face . . .

Slowly everyone began moving again and Kurt felt the mud drying in cracked, hard patches on his clothes and skin. Freaking _great. _

Quinn smiled sympathetically and held out a baby wipe. Kurt snatched it from her and stalked forward. It was going to be a _long _day.

* * *

><p>If Kurt Hummel falling into a muddy puddle was going to be his only highlight of the day then Blaine couldn't really get any happier.<p>

It was his own fault anyway, Blaine thought as he chuckled to himself. Kurt had been sulking the entire way and had a face like a dead fish. He could at least _try _and be happy, for God's sake. What was a matter with him? Was Kurt _really _that self centred he couldn't even enjoy himself because he was too scared he was going to get grass stains on his clothes? How ridiculous was that?

Not to mention the look on Kurt's face when he'd sat up had been _priceless. _Blaine didn't think he'd laughed that much _ever. _

They reached a dusty pathway and he saw the path to the mountain up ahead. The sun trickled through the gaps in the trees and the woods were a sunny golden colour. It made Blaine hum with happiness; he'd always been outdoorsy and he was feeling euphoric at the scenery around him. The leaves were a juicy green and the ground felt firm under his feet and his toes curled pleasantly. Someone like _Kurt Hummel _could never truly appreciate a place like this.

"Right, kids!" Holly stopped them at the foot of the trail. "This is where we stop and things get _exciting." _Blaine's heart thumped painfully at the words. He highly doubted it.

"We're gonna get you into pairs and then give you a map! It's then up to you and your partner to find your way back to the camp using only your map and team work." She grinned. "Sounds fun right?"

_No? _Blaine inwardly answered; already dreading it because wouldn't it be _just _his luck . . .

He'd never really been a religious person. He'd been enrolled at a Catholic school when he was young but that hadn't exactly worked out well, and when his parents realised no matter how hard they prayed their son would never be _"right" _they had just stopped all together. Blaine had never really relied on religion after that.

But he prayed with everything he had that just _once, _whoever was up there would have his back. Would give him a break, just this one time.

Holly started calling pairs out and Blaine curled his hands into fists automatically, muttering haphazard prayers and deals under his breath. _One time, _just one.

"Kurt Hummel! You'll be with Blaine Anderson!"

_Thanks._

Kurt looked just as annoyed as him and Blaine didn't move from where he stood as the others got into pairs around him. How unfair was _this? _This wasn't a coincidence, no way.

He heard the soft sound of mud and shoes on grass and looked over to see Kurt now moving toward him. _Well, this was going to be good_, he thought bitterly, crossing his arms tightly.

Kurt glared at him for a moment and then turned away to go get a map. Before he walked over to Holly he said swiftly, "You must be in your element here. Does it make you homesick for the Shire, Frodo?" and then he stormed off.

_Touché. _

* * *

><p>Their pace was slightly out of sync—Kurt had longer legs than his and he had to trot slightly to keep up with the Kurt's annoyed stride.<p>

They'd been walking for about ten minutes and Kurt still hadn't told him why he'd thrown their map away after Holly had given it them. Kurt had made a noise of disgust and screwed the map up angrily.

Blaine really wanted to bring it up and ask where they were going (because, you know, _they had no map) _but Kurt looked just about ready to burn holes into any living thing with just the blaze in his eyes and Blaine really didn't want to die just yet.

The woods were silent around them. They'd lost track of the others a while back and Blaine had had no choice but to follow Kurt. The trees were getting thicker around them and everything seemed a touch darker.

He cleared his throat tentatively. Kurt ignored him. Well, _fine _then.

"Why'd you throw the map away? You could be getting us lost for all I know-" Blaine began.

"Yes, but you don't know anything so you can end that sentence right there." Kurt made a noise like a grunt somewhere in his throat. Blaine just scowled. He'd tried to be _polite—_

"I've been doing treks and wilderness walks with my Dad so many times I could find my way around Narnia blindfolded and still know my way home. I can find my way back from anywhere now, regardless of where I am." Kurt thought for a moment. "At first he took me because he was confused about who I was—my Mom had just died, he didn't need a _gay _son to add to his problems, right?—and I'd actually enjoyed it. Now we go trekking just because we both love it. I've never been to a _camp _before though. We've always been back home in time for me to moisturize and wash my hair, but here-" he made a disgusted noise and fell silent again.

He didn't know why Kurt was telling him this but Blaine wasn't going to complain. At least they weren't fighting.

Blaine stared at Kurt and noticed how slow their paces had gotten. "So your Dad's OK with you being gay?"

"Oh, yeah. He was always was, I think. But he just needed to sort himself out first. I mostly looked after myself for a few years while he screwed his head back on."

The way Kurt talked about his Dad took Blaine back slightly. It wasn't snappy or said in a haughty manner. He sounded pleasant and calm and fond. Blaine looked sideways and found Kurt's face had softened a touch. He had to admit, the boy looked a lot prettier when he wasn't scowling all the time.

"What about you?" Kurt said suddenly. Blaine quirked an eyebrow in question. "What do your parents think?"

Blaine laughed, loud and harsh. "They don't disapprove exactly, but I'm basically the disappointment of the family. My father is convinced this is just a phase."

Kurt's eyebrows knitted together and Blaine noted how expressive the boy's face was. "Oh. I'm sorry-"

"I don't want your pity." Blaine snapped and walked forward quickly, wanting to distance himself from the conversation. It wasn't exactly something he liked to think about for kicks.

"Well sorry for trying to be polite-"

Blaine turned. "Oh, like I was trying to be to you? And then you _slapped _me?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and stood straighter, scowling again. "_And _it seems we've come full circle!"

"Seriously? God, you think you're so much better than everyone else. You carry yourself like you're damn _royalty-_"

"At least when I stand my full height I'm taller than a five year old!"

"OK, I think we get I'm short!"

Kurt laughed wildly and threw his hands up in frustration. Blaine's stayed clenched at his sides tightly.

"Grow up, won't you Kurt?"

"Why don't you just _grow?_" Kurt said spitefully.

"Why don't you just drop the attitude and learn some manners, you stuck up prude!"

"Oh, my heart!" Kurt said dramatically, clutching at his chest. "I've been mortally wounded by such an insult!" He grinned wickedly at Blaine and Blaine was half pissed off and half amused.

"At least I'm not caked with mud." Blaine said, leaning back against a tree and indicating Kurt's filthy clothes smugly.

It hit him before he had time to duck—Kurt had quickly scraped some mud off of himself and flung it at Blaine.

"Now you're caked in mud _and _short. I win."

Blaine stood there, shocked and not at all sure what to do. Kurt turned on his heel and made to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Blaine called, his voice coming out as a croak. "We're meant to be going back together."

"Well, good luck with that." Kurt smirked and the back of Blaine's neck prickled unpleasantly. "I got us purposely lost so I could leave you in the middle of nowhere. Remember? I can find my way back from anywhere. _You _can't."

Blaine began spluttering—this boy was _insane. "Why? _You can't leave me here!"

Kurt cut him off again. "You insulted my clothes. You made me feel _pathetic. _I don't particularly like that. You, my small _adversaire, _will have to try and find your own way back. Bye."

"Kurt!" Blaine cried, voice breaking slightly. "Kurt, you can't just _abandon _me in the woods!"

Kurt just turned his head slightly and smiled. "Watch out for the bears, Blaine. See you back at the camp."

He walked off and Blaine stood rooted to the spot. The mud still hung wetly on his face and around him it was getting steadily darker. Blaine staggered forward a few steps. "Kurt! You're joking, yeah? _Tell me you're joking!" _

Something behind him snapped, and he jumped a foot in the air and spun round. There was nothing there.

"_Kurt, come _back_!_"

* * *

><p><em>2552 seconds . . . 2553 seconds . . . 2554 seconds . . .<em>

Kurt had astounding patience for a teenager. It probably came with having to spend four years in McKinley. It had gotten him through his father's sickness and had taught good things come to those who wait.

_2559 seconds . . . 2560 seconds . . . 2561 seconds . . ._

It had taken him five minutes to get back to the empty and silent camp—it was taking Blaine much, much longer. Kurt sat on a log that was directly opposite the woods, now freshly showered and clothes neatly pressed. He was immaculate and a small, smug smile played at his lips. Holly had been waiting at the camp site when he'd came back. He was the first to arrive and she'd beamed at him when he'd walked toward her. In answer to her question about the whereabouts of his partner Kurt simply said Blaine had gone around to the showers. He said he'd gladly watch for the others because she _obviously _looked like she needed to rest for a while and it must be _so _stressful looking after a total of thirty-something kids, even if it was their first day there. She's smiled and gave him a high five and agreed happily. When she'd disappeared Kurt had laughed and showered and was now seated on his preferred log, waiting patiently for Blaine.

_2566 seconds . . . 2567 seconds . . . 2568 seconds . . ._

One week away from McKinley was already doing him good, he mused thoughtfully. He was relaxed, even on his own in this strange place. Without the threat of Azimo or his henchmen around Kurt _felt _the lack of tension in his shoulders. He felt confident and more like him than he had done for a while. He could get used to it, the constant lack of fear. He _enjoyed _it. He was _enjoying _himself—there was nothing here to beat him down, nothing to make him feel unwanted and disgusting. He felt high from it all.

He heard a small rustle somewhere to his left.

_Aha._

Blaine emerged from the trees looking entirely worse for wear. His clothes were muddy and torn and his curly hair was laden with twigs and leaves. Blaine shook slightly as he walked toward Kurt and Kurt would have felt sorry for him if Blaine wasn't such a jerk.

He sat up a little straighter and made sure his knee, crossed over his left leg, was at a direct angle to the floor.

"Hello, Blaine!" he chimed, voice happy and sing-song. "You've been a very long time . . . Forty two minutes, I think . . . Have fun?"

Blaine stared at him, eye twitching slightly, a twig dangling in front of his nose from a crushed curl.

"You . . . You . . ." Blaine whispered, trembling.

Kurt jumped up from the log, hands clasped to him. "You certainly look like you've had fun! Oh, _good." _Kurt grinned and stepped forward toward Blaine and ever so slowly bent his head until his mouth was a breath away from Blaine's ear. "_Now you know not to mess with me. You'll regret it, Anderson." _he breathed into the shell of Blaine's ear. Blaine shuddered.

Feeling satisfied, Kurt walked off to his cabin. _Let's see how well Blaine recovers from that._

* * *

><p>Blaine was confused.<p>

Angry and humiliated and most definitely confused. The whole way back to camp—which had been a bloody _nightmare_—Blaine had been turning over thoughts in his head. Mostly about Kurt.

The boy was stuck up and rude. Completely insufferable and proud. Loud and most _definitely _obnoxious. Probably selfish and hurtful too.

Yet as soon as Kurt had breathed _just _so into Blaine's ear, Blaine couldn't stop feeling tingles down his spine and he prickled unpleasantly. _Damn._

It was nothing. Probably the feeling of the twigs and crap still stuck to his clothes . . . _Oh, who was he kidding?_

No, he loathed Kurt. He quirked a rueful smirk and stopped pacing. He was inside his empty cabin and waiting for some of the Warblers to return. At least he'd have time to shower before they'd get back—they'd never know about the woods and Kurt.

He flopped down on his bed. If he hadn't met Kurt it may have been a good first day.

"Urgh!" he groaned, smothering his face into the pillow.

In Kurt and Mercedes' cabin Kurt did the same movement. Mercedes stared at him in sympathy.

"I can't stop being _horrid. _It's so _stressful." _Kurt whined, flailing his hands hopelessly.

Mercedes grinned and began singing softly, patting Kurt's head slightly.

"_But of course I'll rise above it  
>For I know that's how you'd want me to respond,<br>Yes, there's been some confusion for you  
>See my enemy <em>(her change of lyrics didn't slip past Kurt and he lifted his head)_ is...  
>Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and<br>Altogether quite impossible to describe..."_

Kurt snorted. Of course Mercedes knew what to sing to make him feel better. "_Short." _he intoned and Mercedes laughed at his change of lyrics.

He sat up and leaned against Mercedes, resting his head on her shoulder. He carried on from where she'd left off,

"_What is this feeling so sudden and new?  
>I felt the moment I laid eyes on you<br>My pulse is rushing  
>My head is reeling<br>My face is flushing  
>What is this feeling fervid as a flame,<br>Does it have a name, yes,  
>Loathing unadulterated loathing. . ."<em>

On Blaine's own bed, Blaine rolled over and sighed, looking out of the window. He started singing quietly,

"_For your face,  
>Your voice,<br>Your clothing.  
>Let's just say I loathe it all.<br>Every little trait however small,  
>Make's my very flesh begin to crawl, with simple utter loathing . . ."<em>

Both Kurt and Blaine stood and sang together in their separate cabins, completely unaware of each other.

"_There's a strange exhilaration in such total  
>Detestation. It's so pure so strong<br>Though I do admit it came on fast  
>Still I do believe that it can last<br>And I will be loathing,  
>Loathing you my whole life long!"<em>

Mercedes looked at Kurt and belted out a soulful, "_Well, these things are sent to try us."_

Kurt grinned and sat down back next to her. "Too true."

* * *

><p>Blaine spun when the cabin door opened. David walked in, holding a shower curtain and looking annoyed.<p>

"The shower curtain fell again. It's a good job no one was around and I had a towel nearby. I know I'm a catch but I don't need people seeing my junk without permission, you know?" he dropped the curtain on the floor and sat on his bed. "Of course, you wouldn't mind at all Blaine. Can't resist the sexiness that is the D-machine."

"Wes really needs to think of better nicknames." Blaine just said dryly, ignoring David.

"Woah, what happened to you? Did you get attacked by a _bear _or something?" David said suddenly, only now just noticing Blaine's state.

"No." Blaine muttered angrily, sitting up and running his hands through his hair, consequently getting a fistful of twigs. He should have showered before, not sang mindlessly. "Kurt left me in the middle of nowhere by myself. I had to find my own way back, _without _a map and no sense of direction." He gestured to himself. "This happened."

David rolled his eyes. "You and Hummel are either going to end up making out or killing each other—either way I want to be there to watch."

Blaine snorted. "That's wrong on so many levels." He frowned. "It's not fair, David! He keeps doing this stuff to me, completely _humiliating _me and I can't . . ." his eyes dropped to the shower curtain on the floor. He stopped talking and David raised an eyebrow.

_It's devious . . . Completely inappropriate, but then again so was getting him lost in some woods . . ._

He grinned at David. "You up for pranking Hummel?"

David raised his eyebrow further. "Are you asking for a death wish?"

Blaine just grinned his scary determined-Blaine grin and David dropped his head in defeat.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, seriously? He's gonna kill you!"<p>

Blaine ignored Jeff and kept walking toward the showers that were tucked away behind the cabins.

The other Warblers followed him and they softly crept with him as they got closer and closer to the showers.

Blaine wasn't going to lie—he was terrified (of Kurt, yes) because there was a ninety nine percent chance Kurt would kill them all in their sleep for what they were about to do. Yet Kurt's actions previously called for revenge, and Blaine wasn't exactly going to let Kurt Hummel think he could walk all over him. Blaine held out an arm and the fourteen boys behind him, all hushed and just as terrified and excited as him, stopped.

He listened. He could hear the faint groan of the pipes and the smattering of water hitting tile and a high voice softly trilling out some song Blaine didn't know. He grinned Cheshire-cat like. _This was it._

Finger to lips, he motioned for the boys behind him to move—

"You'll regret this."

In one motion they all spun, gasping and Thad saying loudly, "By George!"

A blonde stood before them, hands on hips and chin in the air. She regarded them, affronted. Blaine had seen her with Kurt a few times. Quinn? He was sure she was called Quinn.

"Listen, Quinn?" he said politely.

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. The bitch face was obviously something she knew how to work and Blaine would have cowered—but he'd survived _Kurt Hummel's _bitch face, so he wasn't exactly running away from this tiny blonde bombshell.

She spoke before he could talk again. "He'll kill you all in your sleep. You'll wake up with no legs-" she looked directly Blaine. "You don't need any more of a height disadvantage. It'll be easier to kill you when you're only waist high and crippled."

"I'm sure Blaine wouldn't mind being able to reach Kurt's waist at all . . ." Keller said filthily. Nick smacked him upside the head.

Blaine turned back to Quinn. "Your words have been taken into consideration, so thanks. But if you'll excuse us, we have business to do."

She shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She sauntered off and if Blaine were straight he would have been drooling if the expressions on the Warblers faces were anything to go by.

"Guys," he rolled his eyes. "Kurt? Re-hinge your jaws, or we won't get this done."

"That's not fair! You get to stare at Kurt and kill us all with your sexual tension, but we can't healthily stare at girls?"

Blaine staggered, staring at Luke dumbfounded. Before he could respond Wes hissed, "Come on, don't bait him."

Sighing and grumbling, they turned from what he thought must have been a wonderful sight for them and they looked at Blaine for orders again.

* * *

><p>Kurt had been thinking about his Mom lately. He didn't know why—maybe it was because his Dad and Carole were getting that bit closer to them being "forever", or maybe it was because out here where he didn't have to fear for himself <em>all the time, <em>he allowed himself to think of things he usually didn't have time to.

Kurt was organised and immaculate even inside his own mind; he kept things filed away and locked up until a moment where he was ready to face them. His mother had been a sensitive topic—he couldn't miss her like his father, but his _Mom _had still been taken away unfairly from a little boy. He remembered bits and pieces and sometimes when he thought himself strong enough, he'd take out those memories and relish in them.

Therefore because he was so distracted he _didn't _hear the quiet shuffle of shoes on wet tile. The muffled giggles of boys and the hushed breath. The quiet, barely distinguishable swipe of clothing.

He finally switched off the water and blindly stuck his arm out around the curtain and reached for his towel and clothes.

The cold was biting at his bare skin and his hands groped wildly. _Where was his stuff? _He peered around the curtain, ignoring the cold.

The shelf he'd put his clothes on was empty.

_What the . . .?_

* * *

><p>All fifteen of the Warblers, including Blaine, sat behind the bushes blocking the showers from view of the camp—they had a perfect view of the showers but anyone coming toward them or out of the showers wouldn't see them.<p>

Blaine snickered and clutched Kurt's clothes a bit tighter. It was childish, he knew it, but it was a _perfect _prank all the same_._

He heard the water switch off and the tension between the boys was so evident he could feel it.

_Here it comes. . . _

They heard a muffled ripping noise. Wet skin against tile. Blaine scrunched up his nose in confusion. Where was the shriek? The curse? The lament about someone stealing clothes?

They heard footsteps slapping noisily against wet tile and the boys crouched lower in the bushes.

Kurt emerged—Blaine made a strangled sound and raised his eyebrows incredulously at the sight of the boy a few feet from him.

With not even a slither of skin showing, Kurt emerged from the showers, the shower curtain wrapped around him in such a way that he was completely covered yet still able to move freely.

He snatched a glance at the Warblers around him—they looked impressed. _Blaine _was impressed. Torn between laughing and showing himself, he ducked lower as Kurt came closer. Thad made to get up and say something but Callum pulled him down by the collar of his tee-shirt.

Kurt walked, nose in the air and hands tightly clutching at the shower curtain. He paused right next to the bushes.

Blaine's heart stopped and he held in his breath—_please, nobody make a _sound. _Nobody sneeze, breath, _anything_. . ._

Kurt paused for a second and then carried on walking and Blaine strained himself to hear it, but Kurt definitely whispered a menacing—"It's war . . ."

Blaine sucked in a breath_, He couldn't know they were there! Or that _they'd _even done it, he couldn't!_

Kurt walked on not without looking back.

Silence.

Then Luke, very quietly and without a hint of sarcasm, "You're going to die, Blaine."

Blaine sunk his head into Kurt's clothes in his lap with a groan.

Keller started whistling a funeral march and this time Blaine didn't see who smacked him.

* * *

><p>The shrill, bloodcurdling scream shattered the silent night.<p>

Kurt heard rather than saw the lights go on in various cabins and doors slowly being opened. Still half asleep, a slow smile lazily made its way across his face.

Outside, a door clattered open with a bang and he heard frantic footsteps and terrified squeaks. The unmistakable sound of Blaine's voice, _shrieking _in terror hit his ears and the sound was oddly therapeutic and pleasing to him.

He laughed softly. He heard Mercedes' bed creak and she whispered blurrily, "What did you do?"

Blaine was now shrieking hysterically, "_Spiders! Great big spiders! In my __**bed**__! David! David, get them! Spiders, David!"_

A beat. He answered.

"Put spiders in his bed."

Mercedes rolled over with a groan and Kurt went back to sleep, completely satisfied in his epicaricacy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you all so much for the favourites and reviews- I'm so happy right now, and your support of this fic completely encourages me. Here's part three! This is so far my favourite chapter and I had so much _fun _planning it and writing it out. All the chapters have been wrote now, it's just the case of posting them- however, coursework and exams are on the horizon so my time on here is limited, and I'll post the next chapters as often as I can! The song used is "What Is This Feeling" from Wicked. Appropriate, no?


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine didn't usually associate bull horns with wilderness camps.

He sat up groggily and the horn pierced the quiet again, loud and obnoxious and _annoying._

He flipped back the covers of David's bed (because even though David had gotten _all _the spiders there was no way was he sleeping in the bed until he could change the sheets in the morning) and got up, blindly staggering toward the window.

He opened the shutters and looked out.

The camp had been _invaded. _There was no other word for it. Red and white clad girls _everywhere—_and in the midst of it all towered a most foreboding looking woman, holding a megaphone and yelling out nonsensical words.

". . . _don't you think, Shuester? Where are my head Cheerios? Has the copious amounts of cooking oil you put in your fathomless hair gone to your _head? _I went back to school Monday and I found the pitiful Losers Anonymous you call a Glee club and _my _Cheerios have scuttled off to some camp—where are you?"_

Blaine's jaw must be been somewhere round his ankles—who _was _this woman and why was she making such an _ungodly _noise at—he checked his watch quickly—_six am?_

A door slid open and Blaine peered out and saw the door to Holly Holiday's hut clatter open. Will Shuester tottered out, clad in a ratty t-shirt and sweat pants. He looked as tired as Blaine felt and Blaine watched in fascination as Mr Shue stormed over to the demon in a tracksuit.

"Sue! Sue!" Mr Shuester bellowed, batting away the megaphone that was being waved rudely in his face. "Sue, you can't _come _here! It's completely uncalled for. This is none of your business! Figgins sent the kids-"

"_I'm sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who cares what Figgins does! These are _my _Cheerios you're carting off, William-"_

"Put the megaphone away, Sue! You can't do anything about this-"

The woman finally lowered the megaphone and put her hands on her hips. "We'll see about that, William." They began talking a bit quieter and Blaine made his way to the door of the cabin and opened it a crack, trying to hear better.

David sat up blearily from behind Blaine, who didn't turn from the door. "S'matter? 'S the world ending?"

Blaine smirked. "Maybe. It certainly looks like it . . . Satan is here, David."

David just sank back into the pillows. "Satan can do all he likes; I need my sleep, thank _you _very much."

"Actually, Satan's a she and _she's_ brought about thirty girls in short skirts with her."

"_What?"_

David bolted upright, instantly interested. He bounded over to the window and looked out. He heard the strangled noise David made and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Blaine, do you see that?"

"Yes, Davey. I indeed do."

"So. Many. Girls. In. Skirts."

Blaine pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side and regarded the girls. _Nope, still not appealing at _all.

"Your point?"

David looked at him, scandalised. He put on a teacher like tone (Blaine refrained himself from rolling his eyes _again). "_Blaine, you know I'm as dandy with your sexuality as I am with Wes's almost official marriage to his gavel— which before you say it, I'm _not jealous of, _geez-but you see that sight out yonder? That is a wondrous sight for all boy-kind—you should _cherish _it! _Appreciate it-"_

"David?"

"Blaine?"

"Shut up."

David complied and went back to staring at the girls. Blaine tuned back into the heated conversation Mr Shue was still having with Sue, struggling to hear.

"Sue, this camp has been booked for a week for my kids, another group of boys, and one more group—you _can't _let your Cheerios stay here! What has Figgins said about this?"

"Well, William, after a little meeting Wednesday night with Figgins that may or may not have involved private relations of some sexual nature, we had a nice chat about my rights as a Cheerleading coach—I and my girls can stay here to train, as disgusted as I am by that statement. I've already arranged for the other group that was meant to come here to go to a ski resort instead of this diabolical excuse for a camp. They're most certainly not complaining. Is that a problem, William?"

Blaine gaped. Again—_who was this woman? _If Blaine were Mr Shue right now he would have been _terrified. Blaine_ was terrified. This woman was clearly insane and was going to cause _more _trouble.

The door to Holly's hut opened again and Blaine looked over and saw Holly herself (who was dressed in a kimono, Blaine was not surprised to see) flounce over to a flummoxed Sue.

"Morning, guys! I'm Holly Holiday, owner and manager of this fine establishment—can I help you?" Holly beamed, holding out her hand.

Sue stared incredulously at Mr Shue and then studied Holly for a moment. She turned back to him. "William? Who is this woman and why does she not smell like fear?"

Mr Shue grinned grimly. "This is Holly. She's um . . ."

"_Very _pleased to meet you! Will's told me all about you!" Holly said, smiling again.

Sue narrowed her eyes at Holly and stayed silent, looking between the two. Blaine wondered for a moment—_oh. _Mr Shue _had _come out of Holly's cabin after all . . .

"Well, William, it seems you've found someone who can put up with your constant defeat, misogynist ways and lard filled hobbit hair. It seems there really _is _someone for everyone." Blaine was torn between outright laughing at the expression on Mr Shue's face and calling the woman out—there was no need to be _rude._

"Blaine? Don't let Wes see this woman—her crazy power and fear inducing words will turn him on _bad. _We'll never be able to get him away," David whispered, staring at Sue in amusement from the window.

"Thanks for the insight, David." Blaine said.

It seemed the conversation between the three adults was ending.

Sue turned back to the group of shivering girls in their teeny skirts and pulled the megaphone back to her mouth, "_Runts! Get in order! We're going to the cabins!" _she turned back to Holly and lowered the horn slightly. "You, Malibu Barbie! (Holly started in surprise at being addressed as such) My girls will stay in the empty cabins. We train every morning at six—you will accustom this fact to my girls, and make sure your _camping _schedule does not interfere- and I will see past your bad choice in men and clothing. There's a thing called standards." she looked at Holly and Mr Shue significantly again before she bellowed at the cheerleaders and then leading them out of sight around the back of the camp toward the unoccupied cabins.

There was a hushed silence again and that's when Blaine noticed the curious heads in the other cabin windows. David and Blaine looked at each other.

"Cheerleaders, Blaine. _Cheerleaders._" David whispered, nearly falling out of the window as he tried to see the girls again.

Blaine went to shut the door- before it was forcibly pushed open by the rest of the Warblers. Blaine staggered backwards and made room for the thirteen boys who were now haphazardly piling themselves into his and David's room. He didn't bother to try and make sense of the hollers of "Girls! Girls, Blaine, in _skirts!", _"Did you _see _them?", and "Thank God you and Wes agreed to this trip, David. It's finally paid off!"

They got more and more excited, practically bouncing on the beds because of _girls. _Blaine tried to push away the oncoming headache and said loudly, "_Now_ I remember why we don't let you guys out of Dalton! _Calm down!"_

They settled themselves on the two beds (not an easy feat) and Blaine stared at them critically. "I swear, you see one bit of skin and you turn into a pack of wild animals! Why didn't you get this excited when you saw the New Directions girls?"

"Blaine, they aren't cheerleaders." Aaron said, as though stating the obvious.

"Untrue. That Quinn is ("Oh, _now _I see it!" Rick grinned), and so's the ditzy one and the one who looks like she'd stab you faster than she'd smile at you." Blaine corrected, not particularly interested in the conversation at all. Seriously, he really wasn't this bad with _his_ lusting was he? He knew he was inclined to talk a _bit _too much about Zac Efron or Marlon Brando (as Wes and David _constantly _pointed out) but he didn't turn into club wielding, primitive simian who could only so much as say "ogg" to his source of heart—eyes, did he?

"_Wes," _Keller whined, "_Please _can we sing for them? Serenade them with our rich private schoolboy ways? You know girls can't resist a private schoolboy. . ."

"Keller, that's ridiculous." Blaine said, trying to be the voice of reason. Had Wes brought his gavel? Maybe Blaine could kill them all slowly and mercilessly with it.

"Keller, you may have an idea there." Wes mused and Blaine actually choked on air.

"Wes. _Wes."_ Blaine hissed. "I'm all for singing to express myself etcetera- I'm an natural at it, c'mon- but you can't _sing _to these girls. They've _just _arrived. They're from McKinley!"

"Yes but _Blaine. They're cheerleaders." _Luke said. Blaine groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. If Luke was on the same wavelength as these guys then all hope was lost.

"We'll rehearse in a bit—for now, we need to get showered. I need food before I eat Wes. I'm not objected to eating Blaine either—get out of here." David said, shooing them with little hand movements and one by one the boys left.

Blaine stared after them, devoid of hope. When _in _uniform the Warblers and Dalton boys were relatively normal—sometimes a bit too rambunctious and _sometimes _got too loud, but Wes (and his gavel) and a teacher was always on hand to calm them down. Blaine preferred them that way—at least _then _they were easy to handle. At least then he didn't want to strangle them all or smash his own skull in with something. Blaine had come to Dalton for the tranquillity of it, the unity and obviously the zero tolerance rule. He had the latter- and _none _of the first two most of the time.

Blaine wrapped himself up in Dalton and its hallways and its fine architecture and sometimes he forgot that he _was _like them—he _was _a loud, normal teenage boy. Dalton cushioned everything; it muffled the outside world and gathered him up under its wing when he felt just that bit of step. He didn't need to worry in Dalton. Outside its walls he actually had to _face _his brain. He actually had to face who he _was—_not the prime example of a private school kid, clad in stifling uniform and polite smile. Outside he was snappy and excitable and snarky and musical and spontaneous and everything Dalton didn't let him be.

He wondered how the implications of that would affect him later on. He was so used to the quiet sanctuary of Dalton that he felt out of place here.

That's why he felt he had argued with Kurt.

Kurt was everything he _wasn't—_Kurt _was _loud. He was flamboyant and sarcastic and cold and _proud _of who he was. Blaine was so used to conforming that as soon as he was pulled forcefully into the real world he _itched _with the unfamiliarity of it all. Around Kurt, the evident change between Dalton's Blaine and _Blaine _shocked him. He didn't like it, not one bit. Kurt made him feel like he _couldn't _hide behind uniforms and rules and zero tolerance policies. Kurt made Blaine face the truth about himself without even knowing it. Blaine was _gay, _why around Kurt was that such a big deal to him?

Out here, surrounded by a place he felt _different _and acted different, Blaine realised what he was _doing. _Dalton was there to make Blaine safe—and that meant safe against everything. Everything, including his own sexuality. He shied away from it and he'd done that for so long now he'd almost _forgotten _why he'd gone to Dalton—he was a gay teen and he'd gone through hell. He'd been pulled and reeled so far back in to himself—to _hide _from himself—that he might as well be back in the closet.

He'd felt _ashamed _of who he was.

Kurt made Blaine feel ashamed because Kurt was everything Blaine now wasn't. Kurt knew who he was through and through and Blaine doubted _Kurt _had ever toned down his sexuality so much that it almost wasn't even _there _anymore.

All along he'd been thinking these things—Kurt Hummel, of all people, finally made him realise how much of an idiot he really was.

* * *

><p>Kurt walked out of the showers (fully clothed and not a Warbler hiding in a bush in sight), thinking things he didn't exactly want to think.<p>

_Blaine. _He really _did _feel bad about last night (and it had taken him _forever _to find enough spiders to fill a jar and they'd been awful trying to keep them in Blaine's bed long enough until Blaine actually left the campfire and headed to bed). In some way he had great satisfaction in the prank yet another part of him felt sad and a little ashamed.

He didn't dwell on _those _thoughts.

He was about to walk back to his cabin when a herd of _Cheerios _(_what the . . .?) _scuttled past, some giving him furtive smiles.

Not far behind strode Sue Sylvester herself. Kurt lost all composure and outright gaped at Sue. She stopped when she saw him and something of a smile flickered across her foreboding features.

"My Sweet Porcelain! How are you fending here?" she asked, genuinely curious.

The Cheerios stopped, waiting for their captain. Kurt looked at them quickly and then back at Sue, indifferent face back in place and walls back up.

"Coach Sylvester. I'm fine, thank you. It's been . . . interesting." Kurt inclined. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I expect to see you around. My Cheerios are staying here the remainder of the week due to one William Shuester hijacking my head cheerleaders. Malibu Barbie and Shuester are trying to re-organise their plans for the week," she smirked at the apparent lack of order she'd bestowed upon the two adults. "I doubt you and the group from Lima Hogwarts will do anything today. Again, my Cheerios are looking forward to training here and further messing up their plans. I may even get you to join my team again."

He laughed. "Thanks, Coach, but no thanks. One term with the Cheerios was enough."

She frowned but said, "How about a performance, then? I'm sure the stifling confinements of Lame Club-"

"You mean Glee club, don't you?" Kurt asked shrewdly.

"Don't interrupt me, Porcelain. I don't _care. _I'm sure the stifling confinements of _Glee _club do not let you exercise that freakishly angelic voice of yours—an impromptu performance with my Cheerios could certainly do that."

Kurt pursed his lips. "I'll think about it."

Sue _looked _like she was smiling, though Kurt wasn't entirely sure. She bellowed at the Cheerios again and as a group they hurried after Sue toward the empty cabins at the back of the showers.

_What just happened . . .?_ he asked himself, confused. Conversations with Sue Sylvester did that.

He turned, smirking slightly, and came face to face with a wild looking blonde Warbler.

Kurt jumped back and made a little surprised squeak. The Warbler grinned even further, regarding Kurt with a raised eyebrow. Kurt was suddenly _very _wary.

"Who are you?" Kurt finally asked, stepping back a bit more. The blonde just followed him, blue eyes widely appraising him.

"You're Kurt, the one Blaine likes."

Kurt snorted. "Likes? No, I think you mean hates."

The boy shook his head frantically. "No! No, _really_." The boy looked earnest and like he whole heartedly believed it.

Kurt gaped at the boy. Okay, _clearly _he was insane. Kurt turned away and began walking off quickly but the boy just followed. What was he, a puppy? The way he stared at Kurt made Kurt think so.

"I'm Luke," the boy said. "A Warbler."

_I can see that, _Kurt thought sarcastically. He didn't want to be rude—the boy was awfully enthusiastic and Kurt was using the comparison "a male version of Brittany" in his head. Kurt felt a twinge of amusement despite how _annoying _this boy was already.

"What is it you want, Luke?" Kurt asked, opting for cold politeness. Maybe he could shake this boy off.

"How come you're so sad all the time?"

_Huh?_

Kurt stopped walking and looked at the boy incredulously. His mind blanked for a minute.

Then he understood what the boy had said and what it meant.

It seemed no matter _where _he went the effects of McKinley would go with him.

Yes, it had gotten worse lately. After his father's heart attack he was more than a little stressed and that had meant he couldn't concentrate—he didn't remember to dodge certain corridors or corners of the car park and that had ultimately meant a slam, a shove, the freezing cold slap of a slushie to his new jacket. Then Carole and Finn had joined their family and added further stress. Carole was lovely and he already didn't want to share her—she was kind and understood how sometimes he wanted to smell he wanted to smell his _mother's _perfume and not Carole's. Finn was . . . well, _Finn. _He tried and so did Kurt. Sometimes it was awkward and sometimes Kurt was just so _angry _at how little Finn _really _did for him but he let it pass. He wasn't Finn's responsibility. He didn't want to be.

As the bullying got worse his outfits became more flamboyant. He opted for silver suits, broad bow ties. He layered on the fabrics and the colours and used them as shields—they distracted people from the pain and worry and downright _fear _he'd _hoped _he'd been hiding. Not well enough it seemed.

To use his clothes and his fashion as an armour still unsettled him. Yet the more outrageous he became the more stick he got for it—it was a vicious circle, one that kept him up until well into the early hours of the morning. He'd clutch onto his pillow at night and shake with the sheer force of his panic and terror, and yet the next morning he would stitch on a new heart, a new smile. Something to help him face a new day.

For Blaine of all people to have _insulted _his clothes . . . His clothes had now become _him. _He screamed at people through colours and fabrics, not words. His clothes were melded with his skin now—to take them off and reveal himself? It was basically like peeling away his soft skin and revealing to everyone his very heart. To take away his clothes, it left him vulnerable and completely open to attack. Blaine had _insulted _his armour, had mocked him for hiding the unbearable pain behind the only thing he knew how to. His sharp tongue was only his sword—sometimes powerless and sometimes more dangerous to himself than others. Blaine had made a chink in his impeccable armour and just a tiny bit of his heart had been exposed—but it was enough.

Luke was still staring at him, quite concerned at his silence now.

Kurt let out a shuddering sigh, realising swiftly how very _weak _he really felt. "I don't know. I guess I just have a lot to be sad about."

* * *

><p>"Wes. Please, Wes. For the love of Pavarotti, <em>please <em>tell me that is not your gavel in your hand."

Wes looked at David sardonically and said in reply, "Did you really expect me not to bring it?" he gestured with the gavel in question to the mix of New Directions kids and Warbler boys sitting before them—who were seemingly making as much noise as they could.

Keller and Nick were having a thumb war, Thad sat on top of a screeching Callum (Wes wasn't even going to _ask), _Brad and Aaron were both talking about sports animatedly to Finn from New Directions (who had an arm draped over the bossy and obnoxious brunette who liked to lead the club around); the scary blonde who Blaine had called Quinn flirted openly with the Bieber lookalike, her equally blonde and brunette friend practically _wrapping _themselves around Simon and Ethan. Wes was sure the boy in the wheelchair talking to the Asian couple was called Artie, and the couple themselves were called Tina and Mike. Rick, Jeff and Dan were throwing pieces of screwed up paper (from David's minutes book of all things) at Ethan's curly, black hair. He didn't seem to notice for he was too busy trying to extract himself from the Latin—looking brunettes grip.

Wes sighed. It was bad enough trying to control barely focused boys to complete an eight part harmony of Coldplay's "Fix You"—trying to get them _and _a bunch of Lima Glee club kids to respond to his gavel was going to be hard.

David seemed to concede his point and said, "Okay, fine. Point proven." He cleared his throat and the noise seemed to catch _some _of the group's attentions. "Thank you all for coming when we asked. I've begun the official minutes—let the first ever Warblerections meeting commence."

Keller snickered over in his corner. David stared at him impassively and said, "_Yes, _Warbler Keller?"

Keller looked like a deer in headlights for a moment and then composed himself and said with a rebellious smirk, "You said _Warbler erections_." Several other boys laughed with him. Wes really, _really _had to stop himself from throwing his gavel at Keller.

"Dude, I thought private school boys were meant to be mature?" Finn said, looking bemused.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" Thad said, still on top of Callum.

"It's probably the uniforms, you know. Seriously," Rick nodded, addressing the poor, baffled New Directions kids, "they're just like . . . shells. When we get out of them all kinds of crazy crap happens. Blaine turns into a hermit without his."

Wes smiled, their topic of discussion finally being bought up. "Speaking of Blaine, may I-?"

"Hermit? More like a crab or something—he scuttles around without it, snapping at everyone."

"Actually, guys-"

"Blaine's more of a puppy, I think." Jeff mused, leaning affectionately on Rick's shoulder and throwing another paper ball at Ethan absentmindedly. "Don'tcha think? Adorable and annoying at the same time."

"Enough!" Wes exclaimed, bringing the gavel down. Everyone jumped and looked at Wes, the Warblers with exasperation and the New Directions with surprise and nervousness. _Rightly so,_ Wes thought.

"The _reason _David and I have bought you all here today is what you all seem to be talking about," Wes said, looking at them all. "Blaine and Kurt. Kurt and Blaine. This whole _thing _they've got going on. Because, seriously." he flailed his hands a little and didn't miss David's fond smile.

Aaron nodded. "The sexual tension is horrendous. They _obviously _want to have hot, gay-"

"Yes, well. We don't need the specifics, Aaron." David said, grumbling. "We only have to look at them to know they want to tear each other's clothes off."

The loud brunette came out from under Finn's arm and sat up, looking superior. "Actually, I've noticed this too. Kurt has become a friend of mine recently—I am all for him being happy, and if that means we get him and the curly one to stop fighting then so be it. I'm even willing to give up excellent singing opportunities so to enable them both to realise their feelings."

Wes nodded, agreeing with the girl. "Exactly. You are . . .?"

She smiled. "Rachel Berry. Co leader of the Glee club along with my boyfriend, Finn." She gestured to the tall boy next to her.

"Where _are _Kurt and Blaine, by the way?" Quinn asked, looking around curiously.

Wes allowed himself to grin evilly and he felt David shrink back slightly, knowing Wes all too well to know what _that _grin meant. "Oh, they're . . . _distracted _at the minute. They'll be a while." He grinned further. "I'm sure of that."

* * *

><p>"Can I at least say goodbye to Wes before you kill me?"<p>

Blaine shrank back further against the wall, cowering under the girls glare.

Mercedes, he was sure of it. Kurt's best friend. Oh Lord, he was _dead._

Mercedes stood with her hands on her hips and pursed her lips at him. "Boy, I'm not going to kill you. I'm leaving _that _up to Kurt."

Blaine whimpered. "Have mercy. I'd rather you kill me, to be honest. At least I know you'll do it quickly and only a little painfully."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the wall. She began to march him toward the woods. He made a little squeak of fear and she let go of him, rolling her eyes again.

"Oh, _man. _No wonder Kurt gets you so easily, you're like a kitten."

Blaine pouted.

He and Mercedes walked into the outer perimeter of the woods. He swore he was getting a complex from being so close to the woods and he shuddered at the memory of him stumbling around being _attacked _by trees and bracken.

They walked for a few minutes before Blaine said, "So, are you going to kill me now or are you prolonging it to add to my pain . . .?"

"Hush," she warned, finally stopping.

Blaine stayed a few feet away and tried to (nonchalantly) lean against a tree.

"I'm not going to _kill _you. I wanted to talk to you."

Blaine mumbled, "That's just as bad . . ." before Mercedes shushed him again.

"I wanted to talk to you about Kurt."

Blaine was defensive immediately. "What _about _Kurt?"

Mercedes was silent for a moment and then she sighed. Some of the fierceness left her features and Blaine wondered exactly why she'd dragged him out here.

"What's it like for _you_ being gay, Blaine?"

Blaine started, completely thrown out by her question. "What—what do you mean?"

"Is it like what it's like for Kurt?" Mercedes inquired, folding her arms across her chest. "Because I have a vague idea what its like." she blew out a breath and sat down on a stump over to her right.

"Kurt is proud. He has this 'I'm better than you' attitude—sometimes, that gets him into situations I'd rather my boy not be in. But all that pride and coldness? It's to hide how scared he really is." she looked away and Blaine didn't know what to say. "He hides it from us, he does. I'm his best friend-" she looks fierce again and stared darkly at Blaine, "and I _know _what goes on. But we don't say anything—_I _don't say anything—because he doesn't want us to. Kurt doesn't want pity. He wants someone to understand."

Blaine vaguely saw where this was going, but for now he was too chilled by what Mercedes was saying. It seemed _all _too familiar.

"What goes on at your school? How bad _is _it?" Blaine sort of choked out and he folds his arms to him.

"Bad, believe me. He gets it worse than the rest of us. It's not just slushies and mean words. It's being thrown into lockers, possessions being destroyed."

And Blaine _knows _what else happens too. The derogatory name calling. The feeling of being worthless. The lack of _help._ "Why don't those guys in your Glee club _help _him-?"

"You don't think they try? They do, but then they get it worse than him! Blaine, McKinley isn't like Dalton. It seems to me you guys are pretty accepting, pretty open. At McKinley it's the complete opposite." she folded her hands in her lap. "He can't handle everything on his own. He tries, all the time. He doesn't ask for help. He doesn't _have _anyone to ask for help. There's no one like him, Blaine. He'd struggling and I can't help him anymore."

Blaine sank back against the tree. He knows what it's like, of course he does. What is Mercedes asking him? To talk to Kurt? Hell, if Kurt doesn't want his _best friend's _help than he most certainly wouldn't want Blaine's.

"Why doesn't he leave? Why doesn't he get out?"

Mercedes looked at him incredulously and Blaine knows the point is moot—Kurt _wouldn't _leave. Kurt's much too brave and proud for that.

"Is that what you did? Is that why you go to Dalton?" Mercedes asked.

"Dalton has a zero tolerance policy." Blaine said bitterly, the response automatic and tasting sour in his mouth. "I was like Kurt. The only out kid. The fag of the school, the running joke." He sank his head forward slightly. "When they set fire to my stuff and broke my arm my Dad finally _saw _how bad it was and moved me to Dalton." Blaine laughed hollowly. "He basically said, 'Try not to be too gay here, I don't want the same to happen again'. I guess that's why I'm a bit like the way I am."

Mercedes stared, expression soft and stony at the same time. "That's not happening to Kurt, Blaine. Not my boy. I won't let that _happen." _She stood up. "I know you think he hates you. You'd be surprised. He doesn't _like _you. He's confused and upset."

Blaine tilted his head in question. Mercedes looked even grimmer.

"He thinks that even someone _gay_ doesn't even like him. He thinks he must be that bad that he can't even connect with another boy in the same situation." She sighed. "He's been beaten down his whole life. You think I don't know how bad it is? But what am I supposed to do? Look at me Blaine. I'm an outcast too. I get whispered about when I walk down the halls. I can't help him. Maybe," she looks at him now and Blaine itches under the sincerity of her gaze, "Maybe you can."

* * *

><p>"Okay, so we've given Kurt and Blaine code names so we can talk about them freely when they're around, and the master plan." David announced, shuffling papers. The room was quiet.<p>

"What are the code names?" Simon asked.

Wes smiled. "Blaine is 'Tyrannosaurus Rex'."

"_What?"_

"A T-Rex. Because of his stumpy arms and legs."

"Oh my God, Blaine's a dinosaur? That's so cool."

Wes threw a concerned look at the blonde girl who had spoken, her dark haired counterpart whispering, "Shh, Britt."

"Right, yes. And Kurt is 'China Doll'."

Keller snorted again and everyone ignored him.

"So how exactly are we meant to get them together?" the blonde boy with the big lips asked (and Wes thought he should _really _get those checked out because lips like that were unnerving).

"I say we play charades." Keller intoned, leaning forward slightly. "Act out how much they want to get it on-"

"How about we just let them see it for themselves?" Quinn said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "They don't need us to play match maker. Kurt will no doubt murder us for it and I really don't think I'll have time for any of that."

"Yeah, but Kurt will love us for it once we get him and Blaine macking in a cabin together." Keller said, but was ignored _again._

"Can't we just lock them in a cabin together and not let them out 'til we hear cringe worthy boy kisses?" Jeff whined.

"Is everyone ignoring me?" Keller cried, standing up.

Wes pointed his gavel at Keller and scolded, "We're not _ignoring _you—we're just not acknowledging anything you say."

Keller pouted and sat back down.

"I propose we just go with Quinn's idea—let them go at it for a few days. Eventually one of them will realise." Rachel advised. "I have my bets on Kurt admitting his feelings first. He's usually the assertive one. He'll figure it out and then go after Blaine."

"I don't think so." Tina said, speaking for the first time and coyly unwrapping herself from her boyfriend. "Kurt's had a lot of stuff thrown at him lately. I think he's lost his confidence. It's thrown him a bit, especially with this kind of stuff. Blaine's gonna have to take the first step."

"Either way, I think we should go with my plan." Rachel dictated.

"Kurt's my brother." Finn finally said. "Whatever he does, he'll do it." Finn shrugged. "Either way, dude, he'll hate us all for getting involved in his business. I try to do that as little as possible. I say we go with Rachel's plan."

Wes inclined his head towards him and banged the gavel once. "Motion passed."

There was a subdued silence before Ethan spoke up for the first time, turning to Finn incredulously and saying, "Kurt's your _brother_?"

* * *

><p>"You have more in common with Blaine than you think, you know."<p>

Kurt looked at Luke and sighed. It seemed he really wasn't getting out of this conversation.

"What do you mean?" Kurt said tonelessly.

"Blaine got bullied in his last school, before he moved to Dalton. It was _bad, _so he left. I'm guessing your situation's pretty much the same?"

Kurt shrugged. Blaine had had trouble? Well, that was . . . _something. _

"Yeah. He came to Dalton and it took _months _for him to finally trust us. Every time one of us said hi or went to just _touch _him he'd flinch and instantly become defensive. It was horrible." Luke's manner had changed—suddenly he didn't sound so far away and whimsical. Suddenly he sounded broken and bitter and _hate_ dripped from his words. Kurt knew it wasn't at Blaine—it was what Blaine had been _like. _The situation Blaine had been in to make Blaine that bad had obviously affected Blaine's friends as much as it had affected Blaine himself.

Kurt thought about Finn, and how he tentatively stepped around the issue of Kurt's own life now that they were brothers, and Finn knew Kurt enough not to bring it up—Kurt suspected Blaine's friends had vocalised their worries instead. He couldn't imagine the ever charming Blaine, smooth and confident, broken and drawn in on himself.

"Why are you telling me this?" Kurt insisted.

Luke looked at him helplessly. "Blaine's _different _around you. The other guys don't notice it, but I do. He's relaxed—seriously, he is—and he lets go. He took everything to heart and lost that bit of himself that made him different. Instead of being who he was he just _changed _for everybody." Luke looked at Kurt beseechingly and Kurt felt a prickle at what Luke was saying. "He changed everything—he may as well not be gay anymore, Kurt. That was the one thing he could take pride in, what made him special. And he'd been torn down that much—even by his own _father, _of all people—that he's ashamed."

Kurt gaped and stayed silent, for once rendered speechless. He didn't want to listen to this. He didn't _want _to empathise with Blaine. Blaine had _hurt _him. Blaine may have had some horrid things done to him in the past but why should _Kurt _the one to change it. Blaine needed to screw his head on right—so why should Kurt be the one to keep him balanced?

He narrowed his eyes at Luke, taking the scraps of guilt and empathy and hurt and he stored them away _deep _inside him. "I can't help Blaine. I don't know why you told me this—in case you've forgotten, we _hate _each other. I'd rather keep it that way, thanks."

He tried his best to ignore Luke's flinch, or the look on the boys face as he'd walked away. He remembered it later when he was back in his cabin preparing for the evening meal. _Then_ he allowed himself to cry. He didn't know who he was crying for. Blaine? Himself? Or every other different, struggling teen out there who felt utterly alone?

* * *

><p>Kurt settled himself on a seat between to Mercedes and Finn at the busy table with the rest of the New Direction. Finn offered him a small smile. He smiled back, composed and himself again.<p>

"Have you seen the Cheerio's around?" he asked Mercedes, setting his tray of food on the table before him.

Mercedes pointed to a corner and Kurt immediately saw the red and white uniforms stand out against the casual dress of the others.

"Where were you earlier, man?" Finn asked, clapping a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You missed some _awesome _football. Those Warblers are _amazing, _they totally kicked our asses!" Finn sounded sad over the loss of brotherly bonding time and Kurt smiled again.

He made a non-committal noise at the mention of the Warblers and said, "I was held up."

Rachel bustled over and placed herself between Sam and Finn. "Those Warblers are being awfully _loud. _What are they doing?"

Blaine dropped his head into his hands. "Why didn't you tell me _earlier_? I'm going to completely mess this up."

Wes patted his shoulder. "We _want _it to be loose. Unpractised, _cool. _It'll impress them far better."

Blaine glared from between his fingers. "The first time you want to _loosen up—_and it's for damn _cheerleaders._"

"Cheer up, you'll be _dazzling." _Jeff grinned.

Blaine sighed heavily. He missed singing—they hadn't just _sung _since they'd first arrived. He wanted to sing and dance again. He needed to vent—and Blaine only ever vented through music.

Wes made to get up and beamed at Blaine. "Ready to impress some cheerleaders?"

Blaine nodded grimly and stood up. _Why not?_

"What are they _doing?"_

Kurt looked up to see Rachel frowning and narrowing her eyes at a point a few feet away. Kurt turned to see various Warblers getting to their feet and placing themselves around the small dining hall. There were about thirty or forty tables, none of which were completely full but every one of them seemed to be occupied. The Cheerio's looked up curiously, as did the New Directions kids. Kurt watched Blaine walk to the middle of the room, flanked by the Asian Warbler—Wes?—and the one he was sure was called David.

A beat suddenly started and Kurt jumped slightly. They _weren't_ . . .

The Warblers began to make a melody with their voices again, like they did when they'd first entered Wonderful Wilderness World. Kurt gaped as they swayed and grooved to the music, voices getting rougher and louder. They started dancing in step, making their way round tables and each other, high fiving and clapping. New Directions looked at each other shrewdly, guessing immediately what was happening. The Cheerio's looked interested and were leaning forward toward the boy's.

"_Girl please excuse me if I'm coming too strong  
>But tonight is the night we can really let go<br>My girlfriend is out of town and I'm all alone  
>Your boyfriend is on vacation and he doesn't have to know<br>No I won't oh oh, oh oh  
>No one can do the things, I'm gonna wanna to do to you<br>No I won't oh oh, oh oh  
>Shout it out, scream it loud let me hear you go!<em>"

Blaine was dancing, jumping on tables and singing it to the delighted Cheerio's. Kurt covered his face in horror and amusement, peering out between his fingers and making a strangled sound.

They _were._

Blaine was singing out, face expressive and Kurt was suddenly caught off guard by how _open _and grounded Blaine looked. He didn't look angry, or defensive. He looked _happy. _

"_Baby I like it  
>The way you move on the floor<br>Baby I like it  
>Come on and give me some more<br>Oh yes I like it  
>Screaming like never before<br>Baby I like it  
>I, I, I like it."<em>

Three Warblers—a tall blonde, a brunette and one with dark curly hair—all jumped forward and started dancing. Kurt took his hand from his face and smiled. They were _almost _as good as Tina and Mike and Brittany. They moved wildly but still looked good, all in sync and laughing. They danced around the tables and sang the backup melody as they danced. They high fived Blaine as they moved behind him.

The blonde did a back flip and the Cheerio's squealed as he landed right in front of their tables. Blaine hopped off of the one he was standing on and was singing to them again while the boys danced around him.

"_Girl please excuse me if I'm misbehaving, oh  
>I'm trying keep my hands off<br>But you're begging me for more  
>Round round round<br>Give a low low low  
>Let the time time pass<br>'Cause we're never getting old_

_No I won't oh oh, oh oh  
>No one can do it better<br>Turn around I'll give you more  
>No I won't oh oh, oh oh<br>Shout it out, scream it loud Let me hear you go"_

He placed himself in front of them and grabbed their hands and pulled some of the Cheerio's up. They twirled and danced toward the Warblers and Kurt began laughing at the faces the boys pulled—they were ecstatic as the girls danced into their arms and moved with them in rythm. Blaine shuffled over in his silly way of dancing and Kurt covered his mouth to stop laughing.

"_Baby I like it  
>The way you move on the floor<br>Baby I like it  
>Come on and give me some more<br>Oh yes I like it  
>Screaming like never before<br>Baby I like it  
>I, I, I like it."<em>

They finished and Kurt stayed where he was as the New Directions surged forward to high five and give appreciation to the grinning Warblers. He saw the Cheerio's telling various boys what Kurt supposed was their phone numbers.

He felt Mercedes laughing and he couldn't help but laugh too—all conversations about bullying and inner turmoil forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The response to this was amazing and thank you all _so_ much- your comments and reviews have been _wonderful _and have kept me going all week until I've been able to post again. *twirls*  
>I have <em>no <em>idea where the angst came from, but I couldn't get out of these boys heads and it just escalated until _this _happened- I suspect this is why this chapter's so long- but I've sprinkled some Warbler's in there, I hope you liked it! The song used is Enrique Inglesiais's "I Like It" (meh, not my choice of song but it _fit)._


	5. Chapter 5

Someone was knocking on the door.

Kurt stirred and glanced towards the closed door. Whoever it was knocked again, and a tentative and wobbly, "Kurt? Mercedes?" came through the wood.

Kurt blinked in surprise. Rachel? What was _she_ doing at their cabin door?

He got up and walked over to the door blindly, nudging Mercedes on the way. She groaned and muttered, "There better be someone dead or dying, otherwise I'm gon' cut her. . . "

Kurt ignored her (because he'd thought the same things a month or two ago when Mr Shue had interrupted his French lesson with the news of his father's heart attack, and suddenly Kurt felt worried every time he answered the phone nowadays because bad news waited for no one), and straightening his pyjamas he opened the door.

Rachel stood there, lit by the early morning sunlight, face pinched in sadness and her hands clasped in front of her. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair hung limply on her shoulders. It looked like she hadn't had a bit of sleep.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Kurt asked, surprise colouring his words.

Rachel sniffed and blubbered out a shaky, "Me and Finn had an argument last night. I've been up all night crying and I don't know who to talk to."

Kurt felt Mercedes come up behind him and heard her cluck her tongue in a motherly matter. "Girl, come here." Mercedes opened her arms and Rachel gave a closed lipped smile and made her way to Mercedes, who smothered her up in a sympathetic hug.

Kurt closed the door and followed the two girls back to Mercedes' bed.

Rachel began rambling, "I was just _trying _to get him to put forward a suggestion to Holly about a regular camp fire sing-song—I find them a wonderful way to exercise one's vocals and have fun—but he didn't want to, and I _knew _it would be because he was afraid it was too un cool or something, because that's so typically _Finn. _Then we fought and . . ." Rachel trailed off and sniffed again. "It was so _stupid _to fight over, but he seems so distant lately and before your Dad's wedding, Kurt-" Kurt jumped in surprise at being addressed (because he _really _had stopped listening to Rachel's tirade a few words in), "—Santana was sticking her nose in and Finn just seemed so _off_-_"_

"Rachel, may I?" Kurt interrupted, before he _really _got a headache. Being friends with Rachel Berry did come with its downsides. "It seems you just need a bit of song therapy—I'm surprised you haven't spontaneously combusted from not singing _once _these past few days."

Rachel and Mercedes both exchanged quick, significant glances before Rachel mumbled, "I put it aside for . . . other things." she averted Kurt's eyes and Kurt decided to let the strange behaviour pass for now.

He got up and delved into his suitcase under his bed before bringing out his iPod.

"I've refrained myself from using this simply because there's no plugs so I can't charge it up, but desperate times call for desperate measures," Kurt placed the iPod in its dock and quickly whizzed through songs before exclaiming, "Aha!" and selecting one.

The intro began to play and Rachel looked suddenly amused at his song choice. He strutted over to the two girls and began to sing, dramatically and much like how he sang best—in character and very much Kurt-Hummel.

"_No canary in a tree for me  
>This canary's ready to fly free<br>Cut the cord  
>Is that a man I once adored?<br>He's nothing but an albatross  
>No great loss<br>Doublecrosser_

_Forget about the boy_  
><em>Pull the plug<em>  
><em>Ain't he the one who pulled the rug<em>  
><em>He's lower than an alley cat<em>  
><em>Dirty rat<em>  
><em>And I flatter<em>  
><em>Forget about the boy<em>  
><em>Forget about the boy<em>  
><em>Forget about the boy"<em>

Mercedes began to laugh and she pulled Rachel up, Mercedes singing,

"_And in the moonlight  
>Don't you think about him<br>Sister, you're much better off without him  
>You can blow the blues a kiss goodbye"<em>

Rachel was now grinning and looked a lot like Rachel Berry again; she let go of Mercedes and jumped on Kurt's bed before singing,

"_And put the sun back in the sky  
>For when he comes crawlin'<br>I'm not fallin'"_

_"Shout hooray and halleluh!" _they all chorused and then fell back laughing as Rachel gave a wiggle of her hips, just like Millie.

"_Forget about the boy  
>Forget about the boy<br>Forget about the boy!"_

Kurt grabbed their hands and swung them out, and they ended with their arms spread wide and grinning.

The music ended. Rachel giggled and wrapped Kurt in a hug. "Thank you," she beamed.

Kurt smiled smugly, "As much as it _kills _me to say it, we are very much alike—I know exactly what would make you feel better."

Rachel nodded and then gave a determine smile, "I'm going to talk to Finn. I can sort this out, right?"

Kurt laughed and said, "Don't you want Finn to come and chase after you?"

"I think it's this place—it _mellows _me, would you believe? I'm still hell bent on outshining you all this week, but I can salvage my own relationships and I'm starting now."

She bounded towards the door and Kurt followed, amused.

He opened the door for her—and came face to face with a stricken looking Blaine.

Kurt gaped.

_What the _hell_?_

Blaine made some sort of choking sound and began uselessly flapping his hands while staring at Kurt, the last traces of what Kurt thought was a grin disappearing.

Kurt stared back, equally flustered and wondering what the _hell _Blaine was doing outside their cabin.

"K-Kurt-" Blaine spluttered, eyes wide and looking pale. "I-"

"Blaine!" Rachel greeted, completely not getting the fact _Blaine _was standing outside Kurt's door and looking like he'd been there a while. "Good morning! I would stop to talk but I have some business with my boyfriend." she brushed past him and skipped out, making her way towards Finn's cabin a few cabins away. "Bye guys, I'll catch up with you later!"

The silence she left behind was tense and _extremely _awkward.

_Oh, God . . . _Kurt thought, covering his face with his hand.

"Blaine? What are you doing here?" Mercedes finally asked, nudging Kurt indiscreetly as if to say, _Kurt, stop over reacting and ask what he wants._

Blaine had composed himself and was now smooth and blank again, though Kurt saw his eyes were still a little wide. "I meant to . . . I actually wanted to talk to Kurt. It doesn't matter now, though."

Kurt stood straight again and folded his arms to him, chin held high. He was disinterested as usual, the mask of cold indifference in place. "What exactly do you want, Blaine?"

Blaine regarded Kurt and Kurt couldn't decipher what exactly was going on behind Blaine's eyes.

"It doesn't matter." Blaine finally said, and the tension and unsaid words between them was enough to make Kurt fidget uncomfortably.

They were back to that again, Blaine making Kurt feel out of place. Kurt always felt like they should be _doing _something, but he didn't know what and it confused Kurt and made him itch and feel unsettled.

"Well, if you have nothing to say, I guess that means you can leave. Good bye." Kurt retorted, and then shut the door on Blaine's flustered face.

Kurt leant his forehead against the door and sighed.

A beat. Mercedes sighed heavily. "Must you always be rude to him?"

Kurt gave a grim frown and turned away to retrieve his iPod. "Yes."

* * *

><p>Blaine was agitated, and that meant he couldn't stay still.<p>

He felt useless and stifled if he tried to stay still, so he opted to move around and fidget.

He flexed his fingers nervously and checked the time. It was half eight and they'd be expected to go down for breakfast in half an hour. His feet twitched involuntarily and he made up his mind.

Throwing on an old hoodie and sweat pants he inched open the cabin door and walked into the morning.

The leaves hung lazily off of the branches as he walked under the trees that adorned the camp site; the light threw some of the cabins into shadow and the logs set around the campfire were drowned in the sunlight and blossoms from the trees.

The camp was quite small, really—twenty five badly put together cabins grouped together in little huddles at different points of the camp (and Blaine was extremely glad his was furthest away from the woods), a small area for the campfire, and a jungle gym and tower of tires toward the entrance. Holly Holiday's hut was just behind the jungle gym, and the showers and food hall was behind what he assumed were now the Cheerios cabins.

Blaine didn't exactly know where he was walking to, or why he was agitated in the first place. He'd had a fuzzy dream about his Dad yelling and Dalton's fireplaces and a slap, and he'd awoken with his cheek tingling slightly.

He'd realised that he didn't want to fight with Kurt. Mercedes' talk with him had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was just another one of Kurt's many problems it seemed. Kurt was like him—well, how he _used _to be. All he'd wanted back then was just _someone _to talk to. Despite the abuse and tirade of bullies and helpless teachers and an unaccepting father, it was the crippling loneliness that had made his ache the most.

Someone like Kurt—proud, sharp and all too able to look after himself—seemed so utterly frail though. Blaine thought of Kurt as a diamond—it _looked _fragile and about ready to break, but really it was tough and incoercible and unbreakable.

He wanted to talk to Kurt, and somehow he found himself walking toward the direction of the New Directions cabins. If Kurt didn't want him to talk or help than that was _fine, _but at least Blaine had tried.

He strode toward the cabins—and then realised he had _no _idea which one was Kurt's.

He paused and worried his lip. _What am I . . .?_

Music, low and trilling, came from one of the cabins. Blaine held his breath and listened, hoping is was the cabin he wanted.

He heard the intro to _Forget The Boy _from _Thoroughly Modern Millie._

Oh that was _definitely _from Kurt's cabin.

He bounced forward, smiling despite himself at Kurt's predictability. Of _course _Kurt was playing that, of _course _was playing Broadway songs. It just _fit._

And then he heard Kurt sing.

Blaine held his breath and his heart thudded painfully in his chest.

He'd never heard Kurt sing, and certainly not with a fever like this. Kurt was singing the first verse of the song and was obviously going for the theatricality, but still _something _about the way he sang made Blaine stop and listen. It had an underlying current of _something _Blaine couldn't put his finger on.

He stumbled and tripped toward the cabin the voice was coming out of, not wanting to make a _sound. _Then Kurt belted out a line, his voice _soaring _over the music.

Blaine's breath hitched at the sound and his mouth went dry.

Kurt could _sing. _He could really, _really _sing. Kurt sang like it was everything and nothing, like it was the easiest thing in the world but it caused him the greatest pain. The words were effortlessly being sung but something about it had a distinct _longing _to it, like Kurt was singing just to be fulfilled. Blaine wondered if Kurt always sang like this, if it was just something Kurt did.

Blaine's heart seemed to tremble as Kurt paused and he heard muffled laughter. Kurt had stopped singing, and suddenly Blaine wanted nothing more to grab Kurt and feel the orce of his singing face to face. He'd stopped singing and Blaine couldn't understand why he suddenly felt lost and off-balance. Why suddenly, his heart hurt like someone was squeezing it. His chest ached and he felt his mouth open and his throat constrict.

Another girl was singing now and then another and finally he heard Kurt sing again.

He was right outside the cabin door, balanced on the balls of his feet and ears straining to hear Kurt's voice. It wasn't hard; Kurt sang loudly and like he had great joy in it. The smile gracing Blaine's face grew wider as they all stopped and he heard peals of laughter from Kurt.

They were talking and Blaine heard snatches of their conversation. Mercedes was in there with Kurt, but he didn't know the other girl. They were talking about a boy, and then Kurt was saying something to one of the girls called Rachel and then suddenly the door flew open and Blaine was caught.

He stood transfixed at the door, mind blank and limbs frozen. Kurt looked just as shocked as Blaine felt, but then the brunette he'd seen bossing them around all week bustled out. She must have been the Rachel they were talking to.

She said something to Blaine but her voice sounded far off for the blood was crashing in his ears. Kurt was still staring at him like he'd grown antlers.

Then she was suddenly gone and Blaine had never been in a more awkward situation in his life. Kurt had just caught him outside Kurt's cabin, probably looking like a smiling idiot and a creeper eavesdropper.

Then Mercedes spoke and Blaine tried to pull himself together enough to answer.

He didn't know how, but the conversation ended back up rude and in Kurt's favour again and then Kurt slammed the door in his face.

He sighed.

The onslaught of emotions he'd felt while Kurt had sang still lingered somewhere in his chest and they confused Blaine. Blaine really didn't like being confused. Blaine was smooth and calm, collected and the mature one. He had his head screwed on.

He _wasn't _confused and feeling fuzzy and like someone was prodding his heart every other second. Not until now, anyway.

It seemed trying to _talk _to Kurt was going to turn out harder than he'd originally thought.

* * *

><p>"Yesterday was <em>awesome,<em>" Keller declared and waved a sheet of paper in the Warblers faces as he sat down with his tray. It was later in the morning and the beginning of their third day (it _felt _like it too) and they were having breakfast in the dining hall. "Look how many numbers I got from those Cheerios!" He grinned smugly. "That Charlotte looks pretty promising." Keller peered closely at what Blaine assumed what must be Charlotte's cell phone number.

"You're despicable," Blaine glowered, throwing a nasty glare at Keller.

"Aw, who's a little bitter?" Keller mocked, tucking the paper into his jeans pocket.

"Not me?" Blaine muttered, returning to his toast.

"Blaine's not bitter- Blaine wants to exosculate Kurt, that's all," Thad chortled, and David, who was taking a sip of orange juice at the time, spat it all over Wes and burst into laughter.

"David!" Wes chided, grabbing at napkins and dabbing them at his soaked t-shirt.

"I do _not _want to exosculate Kurt!" Blaine cried, throwing toast at Thad. He really regretted telling them about earlier and his . . . _feelings._

"I should hope not. Unless you want me to slap you again . . ." someone lilted from behind him.

He turned around and caught the last of Kurt's words as Kurt walked behind him. Kurt was not in casual clothes likes the rest of them (of course) but silvery jeans and a silk sweater. The boy walked off with Mercedes, smirking to himself. Blaine groaned loudly and turned to stare murderously at Thad.

Callum snickered and Simon said, "S'OK Blaine. It's just _annoying _that you won't admit it."

Jeff, on the other side of Blaine, started to croon, "_All you need is love . . ."_

The thirteen other boys around the table grinned and turned to face Jeff and see Blaine's reaction.

Blaine dropped his head into one hand and whispered, "_Please, _please don't."

"_All you need is love . . ." _Jeff sang again, grin spreading across his face broadly.

Blaine started muttering words like "kill" and "eviscerate" when Jeff stood up and sang loudly again,

"_All you need is love-"_

"_Love is just a game . . ." _Luke chimed and Blaine dropped his head to the table. Moulin Rouge? _Really? _They were evidently not going to let this morning go.

Keller suddenly jumped on the table and Blaine watched as Brad nearly fell about laughing as his best friend sang, "_I was made for loving baby, you were made for loving me!"_

Brad got up on the table too and Blaine realised people were starting to stare. The Cheerios were missing but the New Directions on the other side of the hall looked over and began laughing as Keller sang and jokingly grooved his hips seductively at Brad.

Brad moved forward, half laughing half singing, "_The only way of loving me baby is to pay a lovely fee!" _he turned at the last minute as Keller grabbed for him.

Blaine swore their girlfriends were just beards.

Wes laughed (and Blaine knew staying at this camp was a _bad _idea right then) and leaned on David singing, "_Just one night, just one night!"_

David laughed and swatted Wes away softly, batting his eyelashes, "_There's no way if you can't pay!"_

"_In the name of love! One night in the name of love!" _Wes belted, standing up and pulling David with him.

Nick stood and sang, "_You crazy fool! I won't give in to you!"_

Jeff took the lead again and sat back down next to Blaine, who was resolutely _not _looking at his so called _friends _as they embarrassed themselves further. Jeff sang quietly, "_Don't leave me this way. I can't survive without your sweet love . . . Oh baby, don't leave me this way . . ." _

Blaine stared at him imploringly as Jeff leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder, singing and grinning still like a maniac and Blaine was going to _kill them all, one by one—_

"_You think that people would have had enough of silly love songs . . ."_

Blaine's head whipped around and he saw Rachel sing the line to the Warblers, grin in place. His ears hummed pleasantly at her voice—it was _good._

Jeff lifted his head and sang back, "_I look around me and I see it isn't so . . ."_

He gestured around them and the New Directions moved forward as one, laughing and encouraged by his singing. Blaine immediately spotted Kurt looking amused and disdainful at the sight—for once he completely agreed with Kurt's expression.

Quinn looped her arm through the (cute) blonde's with the big lips (um, not so cute) and trilled, "_Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs."_

Jeff stood up and walked toward them and some of the Warblers followed, "_Well what's wrong with that, I'd like to know . . ." _the two groups met halfway and Jeff suddenly grabbed the dizzy blonde (who really proved Lima's awful education system was exactly that awful) and ran toward the open door and out toward the camp fire, belting out, "'_Cause here I go a-gain!"_

They ran out and Blaine gaped in shock before he felt Nick drag him up and pull him out into the morning sunlight with the rest.

Aaron, Ethan, Simon and Rick were all on top of the tower of tires, laughing and chipping in with the melody. Luke and Nick were hanging off of the ladders connected to the jungle gym and bopped along, making a rhythm with their feet. The other Warblers—Callum, Dan, Thad, Keller, Wes, David and Brad—stood on the logs around the campfire or hung off the jungle gym.

Blaine didn't know what to do so he dithered at the side of the scene as the New Directions swarmed and jostled past him and climbed their way on top of the jungle gym and joined in.

Jeff clambered on top of the climbing frame and stood highest of them all and Blaine gasped as Jeff tottered, then threw out his arms wide and belted out, Jeff's voice carrying across the rest, "_Love lifts us up where we belong, where eagles fly on a mountain high!"_

Rachel, hanging precariously from a rope and clinging to Finn sang dramatically, "_Love makes us up like we are fools! Throw our lives away for one happy day!"_

"_We can be heroes! Just for one day!" _Finn crowed, swinging Rachel off her feet.

"_You, you would be mean."_

Blaine spun at the voice and saw Kurt standing behind him. Kurt looked cold and indifferent but Blaine _swore _he saw amusement dancing in Kurt's cyan coloured eyes. Blaine felt something in the pit of his stomach and recklessness gripped him. He tilted his head to the side and realised behind him the whole of the Warblers and New Directions were waiting for him to sing.

"No, I won't." Blaine murmured and he saw something like a smile ghost across Kurt's pale features.

"_And I, I'd drink all the time." _Kurt shrugged, smirking at Blaine as he walked forward and around him. Blaine watched Kurt move and laughed quietly as Kurt stood facing him, back to the two groups.

"_You should be lovers!" _Keller and Jeff sang, jumping down from their spots and pushing Kurt toward Blaine.

"_We can't do that." _Blaine and Kurt sang, both looking at each other with raised eyebrows.

"_You should be lovers, and that's a fact!" _everyone sang and Blaine finally started laughing at the ridiculousness of it all

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at Blaine's laugh and trilled, "_Though nothing would keep us together!"_

Blaine shrugged, finally doing what he did best and letting the music do its work. He closed off the _thinking _part of his brain (the part that argued with Kurt and thought about Kurt and fought tirelessly with his father) and the tension rolled from his shoulders as he smiled crookedly at Kurt, "_We could still time, just for one day."_

The New Directions and the Warblers were oblivious to them now and both groups grinned and stood from their places, singing in a united chorus and throwing out their arms or gripping each other's hands.

"_We can be heroes, forever and ever.  
>We could be heroes forever and ever,<br>We can be heroes . . ."_

Blaine moved forward toward Kurt and Kurt didn't move back, just pursed his lips impassively. Blaine finally _saw _how much Kurt really _did _hide behind those eyes. The emotions were plain enough on Kurt's face.

"_Just because I will always love you!" _Blaine sang and the others sang with him until he felt overwhelmed with the sheer power of their voices.

Kurt looked like he felt it to, but still didn't move forward; but there was something around them that suddenly changed and Blaine couldn't tell what, but his vision blurred around the edges and his heart seemed to grow as Kurt sang, "_"I will always love you!"_

Their voices rose and swelled and around them the others joined in until everyone stopped and Kurt sang, slightly breathless, "_How wonderful life is now you're in the world."_

The camp fell into a hushed silence.

Then Jeff whooped and the static atmosphere around them shattered; the New Directions laughed and cheered, jumping down from their perches and clapping the Warblers on the back or hugging each other.

The invisible _something _between Kurt and Blaine lasted for a few more moments before Mercedes engulfed Kurt in a hug and Blaine was suddenly jumped on my Aaron and it was suddenly gone.

And suddenly Blaine felt really empty without it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Once again, your reviews and support for this fic amazes me and I'm so grateful to you all. Thank you for liking it so much, you've all made me _very _happy. There are now four chapters left- there's a lot of _feelings _to be dealt with in the next few chapters and then finally everything comes to a head! The song used is "Elephant Love Medley" from Moulin Rouge. It's not a problem now to upload them all as all the chapters are written, it's just finding the time to update. I'll get to it as fast as I can! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine didn't know how or why but for some reason unbeknownst to him, _he'd_ ended up leading the Warblers out to the empty field a few minutes from the camp where the Cheerios were _supposedly _meant to be practising.

He'd grumbled and moaned (because it was _dawn, _what were they doing to him?) when they'd dragged him from his cabin with their puppy eyes and pleading, and Blaine had thrown on his glasses and hoodie with only _some _protestation, but he still silently seethed. Why should _he _be their baby sitter? Wasn't that Wes's and his bloody _gavel's _job?

And yesterday morning was pretty much _scorched _into his brain. He still couldn't shake the feelings or the mesmerisation he'd had while listening to _Kurt _sing.

He shook his head slightly. Kurt didn't want Blaine even _breathing _by him, let alone _thinking _about him. Blaine just needed to get his head back on, that was _all._

They rounded the corner, the camp finally out of sight and Blaine could see the expanse of field up ahead. The atmosphere between the boys around him changed and seemed suddenly charged (with hormones and the sudden testosterone, Blaine decided); the others suddenly sped up when they saw the faint flicker of red and white stand out vividly against the gray, overcast sky.

"Oi!" Blaine hissed, grabbing Keller by the collar as he walked quickly ahead in his haste, the other boys not far behind. "You can't just _walk _into their practise—their coach will lynch you, or _worse_." He pointed to a smattering of bushes to their left and whispered, "Hide in there!"

They boys crouched at the order, and half ran half loped over to the bushes and ducked down. Blaine heard Luke murmur, "Why must we always hide in bushes?" but they ignored him and settled to watch the Cheerios.

Blaine thought from here they had a pretty good view of the Cheerios. They were pretty close now, and could see each individual pony-tail and high kick. He sat at the front and sighed. This didn't particularly interest him. Blaine was _gay, _what would he gain from this? The Warblers around him bounced in their happiness and he heard their indistinguishable whispers and appreciative comments. He frowned. The things he suffered through. . .

He heard the holler of Sue Sylvester above the rhythmic cheers and chants of the Cheerios and it interrupted his dramatic musings. A lithe figure danced its way forward to the front of the formation the cheerleaders were making and Blaine tilted his head. The figure certainly didn't _look _like a girl . . .

He leaned forward as the Cheerios marched forward in their routine and finally he made out who was dancing at the front.

He gasped. _No way._

Kurt _Hummel _was dancing animatedly with the Cheerios—clad in a white and red _Cheerios uniform_, hair coifed and mouth moving in sync with the girls around him.

Blaine could see them clearly now—the Cheerio girls danced and twirled and back flipped around Kurt, who seemed to be singing something. Blaine's eyes wondered over Kurt's tight fitting uniform and the pale expanse of Kurt's neck as he tipped his head back to sing a high note, and the way Kurt's shoulders and arms bulged with sinewy muscles, tightly packed under the form-fitting uniform.

Blaine swallowed loudly. _Oh, hell . . ._

Now he understood the fuss about cheerleaders.

Someone whistled low under their breath and he heard Callum whisper something like, "I think Blaine's got a new fetish . . ."

He didn't bother to argue.

Blaine watched Kurt in fascination as he paraded around the field in that _uniform _and then suddenly Kurt belted out some line of the song and then kicked his leg _impossibly _high and something in the pit of Blaine's stomach twisted. _Oh _hell.

"Someone get an ice pack, Blaine's burning up!" David teased, fanning Blaine in mock concern.

Blaine batted David's hand away and cleared his throat, willing the blush from his cheeks to disappear. "Come on," he hissed, grabbing the nearest Warblers arm and pulling the boy up slightly into a crouched position, "We need to move before the coach finds us, c'mon-"

"It seems it's a bit too late for that, Frodo." a voice sneered behind them and all the boys whirled round. Aaron slapped a hand over Thad's mouth before Thad could exclaim with the usual, "By George!".

"It seems the Boy Scouts have been spying on my Cheerios—you're all obviously asking for a death wish and Sue Sylvester will happily grant you one," Sue breathed, eyes glinting dangerously.

Blaine heard several boys whimper as she stepped forward toward them. She caught Blaine's eyes and he saw them flash with a fathomless emotion and he wanted to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.

"You. You're the one my Sweet Porcelain is distracted by!" she narrowed her eyes at Blaine and stepped forward. He swallowed loudly and looked up at her, head tilted back and hands shaking. "It seems you two are having disagreements— this displeases me; I cannot have my vocal Cheerio distracted by anything. You may look like the love child of William Shuester's hair and Danny Devito, and your pitiful height and inability to look after yourself and your band of Boy Scouts _would _evoke sympathy in me—if I could feel such a thing."

"Oh my God someone get me a ring, I think I want to marry this woman," Wes whispered and Blaine heard someone smack him.

Sue stepped forward once more. She cast a quick glance over Blaine's head toward her Cheerios and then stared at him dangerously. "Whatever happens, Verne Troyer-" Blaine let out a faint noise of protest at the name, because _really, _he wasn't all that short and people needed to _give it a rest, _"—you better be good to my Porcelain," she poked him in the chest with a finger, "Or feel the _wrath _of Sue Sylvester."

Then with a sneer and a roar of, "Now get off my training field!" she stormed off.

There was a horrible silence.

Then Wes half whispered, half mused, "Do you think she'd give me her number if I asked nicely?"

David looked at him incredulously. "Dude, she'd _eat _you."

Blaine just stared after the retreating figure of Sue, face frozen in exaggerated horror. Keller began guffawing at Blaine's expression and said, "I really hope that boy Hummel's worth getting on the wrong side of _her."_

Thad, who stared wistfully after the cheerleaders leaving the field, smiled at Keller's words and smirked. "Oh, after seeing Kurt like _that_ I'm sure _Blaine _certainly thinks so _now."_

Blaine whirled to face them, his cheeks colouring in embarrassment. "_Shut up."_

Ethan chortled. "Whatever you say, _Danny Devito."_

* * *

><p>Holly Holiday stood on one of the food tables in the hall and clapped her hands together. The Cheerios sitting at the table Holly stood on looked up in disdain and amusement before going back to their breakfast.<p>

"Guys!" Holly called, clapping her hands to get the rowdy groups of kid's attentions. "Guys! Can you all listen for a sec?"

Holly looked round helplessly as the morning routine of food fights, gossiping and snatches of singing still went on.

Sue, standing a few feet away, rolled her eyes at the pitiful sight and grabbed her ever trusty megaphone from a side table and yelled into it, "_Simians! Listen to the lady!", _and finally the din died down.

Holly beamed at Sue, then turned back to address the hall. "Okay! So, your week's already half way through and yesterday was pretty fun—but today's where it gets hard! Tomorrow you'll be going on a trek on your _own _up the mountains in pairs, so _today _we're gonna be teaching you lot a few tricks and survival techniques to get you all ready and prepared!" she grinned and got off the table.

Rachel Berry stood up from halfway across the hall and shouted Holly's name. Holly turned and Rachel leant forward, one hand slightly raised in question. "If I may, Miss Holiday—I was wondering, could the New Directions give a performance tonight at the campfire? I know you like a regular sing song by the campfire, but we feel we want to show everyone-" she gave a sly grin to the Warblers, "—what we can do."

Holly smiled, eyes lighting up at Rachel's words, and she looked around the hall before answering, "I thought you'd never ask," she looked round again and informed them, "That's kind of my catchphrase." She winked then flounced back over to the adults table.

* * *

><p>When Kurt was good at something, the inner showman within liked to flaunt that something. If he could sing a particularly challenging song well, then he sure as hell would sing that song at every opportunity. He could cook like the best, and when his Dad invited round his wacky lesbian aunt from Michigan or he and Carole wanted a night off, he liked to cook them things and watch in self satisfied delight when they enjoyed it.<p>

So when Holly had all informed them about survival courses and mountain treks, Kurt surprised the New Directions seated around the table when he smirked and said gleefully, "Oh, I'm so going to kick _all _your asses at this."

That, he did.

They had all rendezvoused in the woods where a typical obstacle course had been set up; netting they had to crawl under, mud they would have to wade through, zip lines they'd have to cross, logs and barriers they'd have to climb over and general camping "fun".

The jocks had rubbed their hands together smugly and volunteered to be the first to try the course.

Kurt watched in amusement as they all failed horribly.

He stood with the New Directions girls and Artie and the Warblers, and watched as Finn, Sam and Mike all tried to get through the obstacle course unscathed and tried to show off to their girlfriends.

Sam had tripped over the log that they were supposed to walk on as they crossed the lake deep in the centre of the woods, and went toppling backwards onto the grass. He didn't try again.

Mike had had even worse luck; he got stuck somewhere in the mud and flailed and swung his arms around to try and free himself but in the end Mr Shue and Holly had to pull him out by his arms. He walked back to Tina dejectedly as _she _roared with laughter.

Finn was the best though. Kurt had watched with his arms crossed and breathless from laughing heartily at Sam and Mike and waited. Finn had pretended to brace himself, and with a flirty wink at Rachel had dived for the netting.

Kurt counted. _One, two, three . . ._

"Help! Help, I'm trapped! I can't breathe!"

The Warblers and the New Directions dissolved into stitches around him. Finn was tangled in the netting, arms and legs caught in the holes, far too big to stay under the net. His feet entangled themselves until the net was tightly pressed around him, his nose deformed under the tiny holes.

No one went forward to help him because they were all laughing too much. Kurt sighed, grin still in place. He gathered he'd have to be the one to free Finn.

He strode forward toward Finn, who looked a lot like an overgrown sea mammal trapped in a fisherman's net and delved his hand into his boot.

Finn looked up at him, tears hanging from his eyelashes. "Kurt, Kurt help me I can't _breathe-"_

Kurt sighed impatiently. "Finn, the net has _holes _in it. Of course you can breathe."

"Oh . . ."

Kurt finally got what he was searching for; from the inside of his boot he brought out a small pouch. He opened it and inside was a small manicure set. He heard the others stop laughing and he felt them stare. He guessed they were pretty surprised but _please_. He was Kurt Hummel, did they expect anything less?

Extracting a small pair of nail scissors, he slipped the pouch back into his boot and bent down to Finn, who watched him in incredulous wonder.

Kurt snipped carefully at the net, careful not to damage his scissors and finally cut a big enough hole for Finn could pull the net off of himself.

Finn jumped up, net falling away and he gathered Kurt up in his arms, practically lifting him up off of the ground. "Oh my God, Kurt that was so scary, I thought I was gonna die and be trapped forever-"

Kurt felt the breath leave him as Finn steadily squeezed it from his lungs, "Finn. Finn let me go!"

Finn dropped him suddenly and it was awkward again. "Oh. Sorry, dude."

Kurt patted his arm, catching his breath again. "It's OK. Just stay away from the net."

* * *

><p>One of Blaine's least attractive personality traits was jealousy. He knew that, but he still couldn't stop himself feeling the jarring, sharp pain of it shoot through him when someone was <em>better <em>than him.

He couldn't just accept that Kurt Hummel—feminine, fashion conscious and practically and unhealthily perfect Kurt Hummel—would be better than him at something like _obstacle courses._

Of course, he'd avoided the thought of Kurt all together after this morning. Every time he thought of that ass in the red Cheerios uniform he blushed to his roots, and _God—_

_Blaine, put your eyes back in, _he chided to himself. He had to get over this infuriating thing, whatever it was. Kurt Hummel was . . .Well, he was maddening. Blaine couldn't stop thinking of his voice, his hair, his smile (never really aimed at Blaine though) and his eyes . . .

A cheer went through the group around him as Kurt did a high kick over the log he was meant to clamber over and Blaine's thoughts turned bitter again. Jealousy was not an easy thing.

Kurt finished the obstacle course in impeccable time, looking _far _too satisfied with himself.

He walked back over to the group and smirked at Blaine slightly and _damnit, _Blaine was blushing again.

_Damn you, Kurt Hummel._

* * *

><p><em>Don't do it, don't <em>do _it Blaine._

He put another pole into the material of the tent and bit back another inappropriate joke. Now was _really _not the time.

They were next to the lake, seated on logs or standing on the soft grass under their feet.

Blaine had gaped as they'd walked into the area, smile making its way up his face. The lake was a gorgeous blue colour and shone like a mirror, its edges decorated with over grown grass and reeds. A log was stretched across the lake and Blaine guessed it must be for the treks and walks, to make things more challenging. The area itself was adorned with logs and tall, willowy trees that cast shadows across the group. The sun hung lazily in the sky and Blaine felt it's warmth on the back of his neck. This place was beautiful, despite all its faults.

Wes moaned in frustration and threw down the tent pole. "I can't do it! It's too hard!"

Blaine bit back another dirty laugh. _Grow up, Blaine. Get a grip._

Wes flopped onto the grass, arm over his eyes and whined out a pitiful, "Just leave me here to die."

Blaine nudged him with his own tent pole and said, "Get up, Wesimer. Where's the undefeated- albeit scary- attitude gone?"

Wes glared at him from under his arm.

"I think maybe we should all take a break," Holly said, nodding in sympathy at them. The New Directions were already sprawled out on the grass, and the blonde, dizzy one was braiding dandelions through the brunette's hair that sat beside her.

They all stopped and put down what they were holding and as one they all dropped to the floor.

Blaine started to shred the grass around him meditatively, sitting cross legged and resting on his hand. He watched as Callum chased Brad with a stick, shrieking like a monkey. Adam and Ethan were having a thumb war and Keller was trying to chat up the brunette from New Directions. Really, what was her name? Santana?

And he watched Kurt. The way Kurt clapped his hands together when he laughed at something Mercedes said to him. The way he would occasionally stroke back his hair, or flick his head and show that long, pale neck. The way he pursed his lips when Callum would shriek to loudly, or how Kurt languidly stretched out his legs—clad in jeans, of course—and Blaine noticed Kurt Hummel had really nice legs.

Then suddenly Kurt looked up and met Blaine's eyes and Blaine saw him frown and oh _no, _had Blaine been staring the whole time?

Blaine quickly dropped his head forward and his fingers moved manically through the grass, trying desperately to look distracted and not like he had been staring at _Kurt_.

He saw two boots stop in front of him and his stomach became a bottomless pit. _Here it comes._

He heard the rustle of material and Blaine swore Kurt was folding his arms.

"You never did tell me why you were outside my cabin yesterday."

Blaine looked up in surprise and hope at Kurt's voice. Kurt sounded neutral, almost indifferent. Blaine clamoured to say something that didn't sound stupid or creepy or irritating, but in the end he gave up.

"I . . . I was listening to you sing," he mumbled and kept his head down still. He was blushing once more, and _damn it, _why was this so confusing?

Kurt didn't say anything, so Blaine chanced a quick glance up at him. Kurt looked mildly surprised and fearful at Blaine's words_. _Kurt pulled a mask over his emotions and just quirked an eyebrow and tried to look calm, but Blaine didn't miss the small flail of Kurt's hands though and the uncomfortable fidget as Kurt said, "And what did you think?" Kurt quickly backtracked and added a, "Not like your opinion matters to me though."

Blaine tried not to smirk, because really it was all a bit adorable. Was Kurt Hummel searching for _his _approval?

"I liked it."

Kurt tilted his head. Blaine took a breath before going on, "More than liked it. I loved it. I had no idea you could sing like that, you're _amazing."_

And _woah, _that was a bit much.

Kurt gave a self satisfied nod, obviously approving of Blaine's answer. "I know."

Blaine laughed at Kurt's assuredness and breathed out in relief. So far an easy conversation hadn't been _that _hard. "At least you're not pranking me anymore," Blaine admitted. He immediately regretted it when Kurt's smile slipped and Kurt frowned in annoyance.

"I only pranked you because _you _pranked me in the first place! I had to walk around in a _shower curtain_!" Kurt cried.

Blaine stared up at Kurt in exasperation. "You could have gone naked! At least you had something!"

Kurt frowned and folded his arms again. "Oh, I'm sure _you _would've liked to see me naked." He said it scathingly and went to turn away again and leave Blaine spluttering out half formed protestations.

"You could have worn that Cheerios uniform!"

Blaine clapped a hand to his own mouth. _Oh my _God, _did I just say that? _Kurt turned, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Blaine scratched awkwardly at his neck, the blush now burning his cheeks. " . . . The Warblers were spying on the Cheerios practise earlier and I . . . I saw you." His pitiful explanation just seemed to make Kurt more shocked. Blaine stood up and stared desperately at Kurt, who was still frozen in shock.

Then Kurt looked angry and Blaine inwardly beat himself round the head. Couldn't they just have _one _conversation where things didn't turn angry?

"I can't _believe _you were all spying!" Kurt backed away and looked around. Most of the Warblers were still distracted, but others like Wes and Simon were watching them, some of the New Directions too. Kurt worried his lip and stared daggers at Blaine. "I really hope Coach Sylvester caught you."

"She did!" Blaine protested, trying to make Kurt sympathise. "_She called me Danny Devito!"_

Kurt smirked cruelly and retorted, "Well at least she's accurate. Your height is laughable."

"Urgh!" Blaine yelled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Why do you have to be so condescending? Why do you have to argue after _everything _I say?"

"Because _you're _so annoying! I feel like you're _always _mocking me!" Kurt retaliated, face screwed up.

Blaine gaped. "_What?" _he stepped towards Kurt. "I _never _mock you! You're always acting like you're better than me! How am I supposed to react? You expect me to just take it? I can't understand why you don't like me!"

Kurt just looked at a loss for words, then turned away and started to walk back towards Mercedes, who watched it all with a sad but defiant look.

Blaine stared helplessly at Wes, desperately wanting some sort of guidance. Wes looked at an even bigger loss at what to do, and then finally David stepped in. He began a short, quick tune and the other Warblers around him listened curiously. They recognised the tune immediately and grinned, then stood up and converged around Blaine and David. David stopped singing quietly and looked at Blaine.

The New Directions all turned and watched, intrigued suddenly. Blaine snaked his way around them from where they sat or lay on the grass. He listened to the boys following behind and the melody they were creating and the mild irritation on Kurt's face as Blaine made his way to Kurt, singing just to him.

The Warblers all stood behind him as one big group and then after a quick count from David, he began singing.

"_Do I attract you?  
>Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?<br>Am I too dirty?  
>Am I too flirty?<br>Do I like what you like?"_

Kurt blanched when Blaine started singing. Blaine reached Kurt and starting acting through the words, really hamming it up and delighted in how Kurt's expression changed from annoyed to amused. Blaine grinned and gestured wildly as he sang. Then Blaine dared himself and suddeny sat down next to Kurt, too close and completely in the boys personal space as he sang the last line. With alarming _(and hot, Blaine, it's hot_) fluidity, Kurt got up and began to walk off but Blaine just followed, still acting and singing and looking ridiculous.

"_I could be wholesome  
>I could be loathsome<br>I guess I'm a little bit shy_"

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand suddenly and Kurt was rooted to the spot in shock. Blaine pressed Kurt's hand above his heart and sang desperately,

"_Why don't you like me?  
>Why don't you like me without making me try?"<em>

The Warblers moved with Blaine, who let go of Kurt's hand. Kurt stood still and watched as Blaine pulled ridiculous poses and the Warblers grooved and chimed as Blaine sang,

"_I try to be like Grace Kelly  
>But all her looks were too sad<br>So I try a little Freddie  
>I've gone identity mad!"<em>

_"I could be brown  
>I could be blue<br>I could be violet sky  
>I could be hurtful<br>I could be purple  
>I could be anything you like,"<em>

Kurt avoided Blaine's eyes again and began walking off once more, but Blaine just kept on singing, trying to make Kurt _hear _the words.

"_Gotta be green  
>Gotta be mean<br>Gotta be everything more  
>Why don't you like me?<br>Why don't you like me?  
>Why don't you walk out the door!"<em>

Kurt wondered over to the lake, and by now the New Directions were laughing and watching, and the Warblers were spreading themselves around as Blaine followed Kurt and tried to coax Kurt to smile.

"_How can I help it  
>How can I help it<br>How can I help what you think?  
>Hello my baby<br>Hello my baby  
>Putting my life on the brink<em>

_Why don't you like me  
>Why don't you like me<br>Why don't you like yourself?  
>Should I bend over?<br>Should I look older just to be put on your shelf?"_

He'd grabbed Kurt's hand again and was staring deploringly at the taller boy, who giggled a tiny bit at Blaine's expressions. Blaine felt encouraged by the small laugh and began spinning Kurt round, still latched onto the boy's hand.

"_I could be brown  
>I could be blue<br>I could be violet sky  
>I could be hurtful<br>I could be purple  
>I could be anything you like<em>

_Gotta be green  
>Gotta be mean<br>Gotta be everything more  
>Why don't you like me?<br>Why don't you like me?  
>Why don't you walk out the door!"<br>_

Kurt was laughing delightedly and Blaine was basking in Kurt's glowing smile, then Kurt suddenly ripped his hand from Blaine's and stopped laughing. Kurt shook his head and pushed past Blaine and stepped onto the log that ran across the lake. Blaine stared, dejected and his brows furrowed before he dropped his voice and stepped onto the log too. Kurt shook his head minutely and narrowed his eyes at Blaine.

"_I could be brown  
>I could be blue<em>  
><em>I could be violet sky<br>I could be hurtful  
>I could be purple<br>I could be anything you like"_

Blaine smiled as Kurt did, and he grabbed Kurt's hand for a third time, relishing in Kurt's look of shocked delight at the sudden gesture and Blaine tingled all over.

"_Gotta be green  
>Gotta be mean<br>Gotta be everything more  
>Why don't you like me?<br>Why don't you like me?  
>Walk out the door!"<em>

He bounded forward and pulled at Kurt, laughing. Kurt shrieked and threw out his hands and smacked at Blaine and then suddenly, suddenly they were falling—

Blaine felt his arms flail and Kurt was clutching onto his t shirt and then after what felt like a century, they both felt the water slap at their backs and both of them fell into the lake.

Blaine emerged, spluttering and hair sticking to his forehead, water running in rivulets down in his face. Kurt popped up after him, gasping and shrieking. Blaine tried to dodge the flurry of limbs attached to Kurt, who was swinging himself around and trying desperately to get out of the water.

"Kurt! _Kurt!_" Blaine yelled, catching Kurt's wrists and the pale boy stopped and stared at Blaine, wide eyed.

Then Kurt began shrieking _at _Blaine. "This is _your _fault! You're the one who did this! It's always your fault!"

"Kurt! Calm down!" Blaine said. He began dragging Kurt backwards toward the edge of the lake. Kurt shrieked and yelled the whole way until finally Blaine shoved him towards the grass, and Kurt clung to it, sopping wet and whimpering, "Sweet, sweet land. Blessed land . . ."

Blaine tried not to roll his eyes too hard. Really?

He heaved himself up and sat down next to Kurt, who glared up at him dangerously. Blaine just grinned, despite the fact he was dripping wet and his hair was in his eyes and Kurt probably hated him right now. He glanced round and saw the New Directions and Warblers were in _tears. _Keller was actually flat on the ground, rolling around in laughter, tears running backwards into his hair. Blaine started laughing himself and Kurt finally sat up and stared at him incredulously.

"There is nothing _funny_ about this! Look at the state of me!" Kurt cried, gesturing to his flat hair and the way it hung to his forehead and his ruined clothes.

Blaine just flashed a quick grin and nudged Kurt's shoulder. Kurt looked surprised at the gesture.

Blaine then wondered how very lonely Kurt really was. If it was anything like how he'd felt than it must be bad; Blaine guessed Kurt must be just as touch starved as him. The Warblers would never hesitate to hug or touch Blaine, but just the simplest, most intimate thing like holding someone's _hand _had never been granted to him. Blaine had just _held _Kurt's hand, he'd just done that! The realisation shocked him enough to say to Kurt, who was now staring at him with contemplative blue eyes:

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Kurt." Blaine breathed. He kept his eyes down so as not to see the maybe look of rejection Kurt would give him, though exactly what Kurt would be rejecting he didn't know.

He heard Kurt's intake of breath, then Kurt let it out softly and Blaine felt it on his still wet skin. "What are you trying to say?" Kurt whispered.

Blaine gave a half shrug and was blushing again. He squinted up at Kurt, an apologetic smile in place. "I don't know. I don't even know myself. I just . . . I don't like fighting with you."

Kurt lifted his chin and regarded Blaine with those _eyes. _"But if we're not fighting, what are we supposed to do?"

And something about the way he _said _it made Blaine shiver. If they _didn't _fight, if they _did _like each other, would the tangible spark and energy Blaine _sometimes _thought was there make itself known? Would they act on it?

He stared at Kurt. Kurt's silvery shirt was slowly drying all creased and Blaine knew that would piss Kurt off later. He watched the sun play in Kurt's hair, drying in fluffy tufts. Blaine smirked at it and how adorable Kurt looked. The greenery around them brought out the green flecks in Kurt's eyes and Blaine realised whatever this was, if they _did _stop fighting . . . Blaine realised that he had so much to feel and say to Kurt.

He just didn't know if Kurt wanted to hear it.

* * *

><p>"Well done Blaine—mission accomplished. You successfully got Kurt Hummel soaking wet and flustered."<p>

Blaine lurched up and wacked Keller on the arm. Blaine sat back down in a huff in his spot of sun and held out his arms in the attempt to get dry.

"Oh but Blaine, you should have seen your face!" Wes continued, sitting down behind Blaine. Blaine ignored him.

"I was well aware of what happened, thanks Wes."

"And then that _lovely _little confession. Tell me, do all gay people spout such sappy crap?"

"Keller, I'm going to ignore that borderline offensive comment, I really am, because I'm comfortable and don't want to waste my energy by killing you."

"Ouch."

They were silent again and then Callum said, "But seriously Blaine, you may as well confess your love right now and save us the entire headache."

Blaine gritted his teeth. "I do not _love _Kurt. Kurt is an infuriating, petulant little boy."

"And he thinks the same of you!" Wes chimed, grinning and scooting closer to Blaine.

"So obviously, you're meant to be!" Callum concluded. Thad grabbed Callum and pulled him toward him in a sudden headlock.

"What kind of logic is that? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?" Thad laughed, grinning at Callum's yells.

"If he was it'd explain the horrible deformity that is his face," Keller smirked, and Callum wrestled out of Thad's grip, indignant.

"Hey! You're one to talk; at least I wasn't _born _looking the way _you _do!"

"What are you trying to say?" Keller demanded, sitting up and squaring up to Callum.

"Will you both shut up?" Wes yelled, "Do not _make _me get my gavel!"

"Then tell him to shut up!" Callum and Keller chorused and then they both looked at each other, then they gave loud roars and pounced at one another. They began rolling around in the grass, jeering and yelling.

David sighed from beside Blaine and made to get up. "I'll go get a stick and try and poke them apart . . ."

It was Luke who split them up, though—he strode forward and grabbed Callum, who was the skinniest of the boys, by his t-shirt and pulled him up and chided, "Callum, I _will _throw you into the lake if you don't stop it!"

"Yeah, Callum, stop it!" Keller sneered.

As one, the other fourteen boys said, "_Keller!_"

Keller sat back on his heels looking put out.

There was silence again. Blaine peered through his eyelashes at a spot in the distance where Kurt currently sat with Mercedes, also trying to dry himself off.

Why couldn't he draw his eyes away from him? It was just so _confusing, _but then in some ways it . . . wasn't. Kurt laughing, Kurt smiling—even better, Kurt smiling at _Blaine—_just seemed so right. It made _Blaine _happy, and didn't _that _mean something?

Kurt leant over to peer inside the bag of candy Mercedes was offering and Blaine watched as Kurt popped a vivid red sweet into his mouth. And oh _Jesus—_Kurt's pale tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip and wash away the stickiness of the sweet. Kurt's sharp as glass cheekbones hollowed out as he sucked at the sweet—and then Kurt let it rest between his lips, rolling it over and over with his teeth before Kurt slid it back into his mouth.

Blaine had never seen anything more fascinating in his teenage _life._

"_There you see him,_  
><em>Sitting there across the way. . .<em>"

Blaine jumped as Wes began crooning in his ear. Wes carried on singing softly,

"_He don't got a lot to say  
>But there's something about him . . ."<em>

"Please, Wes!" Blaine begged, scooting further away from Wes who stared at him devilishly. Wes urged Blaine to listen with a quick gesture. The other Warblers realised what he was doing and sat up and provided the intruments and backing vocals.  
><em><br>"And you don't know why  
>But you're dying to try,<br>You wanna, kiss the boy!_"

"_Wes!" _Blaine pleaded, standing up and trying to move away. He turned and was suddenly facing a grinning Keller. Keller gripped Blaine's shoulders and held him in place as Wes sauntered up to him and roped an arm around Blaine's shoulders before carrying on.

_"Yes you want him,  
>Look at him you know you do"<em>

Wes gestured to Kurt and turned Blaine so Blaine was looking at Kurt straight on.

_"Possible he wants you to,  
>There is one way to ask him!"<em>

Wes shrugged and the other Warblers took their cue and began swaying behind them and singing the instrumental.

_"It don't take a word, not a single word  
>Go on and, kiss the boy!"<em>

Keller began the "sha la la la la la"'s and pulled at Blaine's hand to spin him as the Warblers all stood and crowded around him.

_"Sha la la la la la  
>Look like the boy too shy,<br>Ain't gonna, kiss the boy!"_

Wes walked backwards, away from Blaine, singing with as much fevor and theatricality as Blaine often performed himself- Wes wagged his finger in mock offense and then jumped on a log some of the New Directions were using. He held out his arms in defeat as Blaine pushed past the Warblers and tried to walk away,

_"Sha la la la la la,  
>Ain't that sad?<br>Ain't it a shame, too bad?  
>He's gonna, miss the boy. . ."<em>

Blaine snatched a look at Kurt as he heard the Warblers walk towards him, their melody snaking it's way around the lake. Kurt was puzzled and looked a bit frightened at the song and kept turning away to Mercedes, but his eyes frantically kept catching Blaine's, as they had done since their _talk_. Blaine panicked- had he scared Kurt off with the talk of wanting to be friends? Was Kurt that adamant on hating him?

Blaine lurched forward suddenly- he needed to talk to Kurt, he needed to _get _to Kurt, even though he didn't know why. He moved forward- and then Wes pulled him back and put his arm around Blaine's shoulders again. Blaine ground his teeth together, _wishing _his friends would leave it alone.

_"Sha la la la la la  
>Don't be scared!<br>We got the mood prepared!  
>Go on and kiss the boy!"<em>

Blaine shrugged off Wes's arm and gave him a _look, _but the Asian boy just grinned and carried on singing, the Warblers all acting ridiculous behind him.

Blaine moved forward toward Kurt. He had to do _something._

"_Sha la la la la la_  
><em>Don't stop now!<em>  
><em>Don't try to hide it now,<em>  
><em>You wanna, kiss the boy!<em>"

Blaine watched Kurt turn towards Blaine as he steadily approached and Blaine watched the cataclysm of emotions race through Kurt's eyes- fear, confusion, apprehension. As their eyes met Blaine felt something sure and definite shift inside him.

_"Sha la la la la la,  
>Float along,<br>And listen to the song,  
>The song say, kiss the boy!"<em>

It didn't seem all that confusing now, listening to the Warblers croon _that _song behind him and staring so intently into Kurt's eyes. Those _eyes . . . _They made him so dizzy.

_"Sha la la la la la  
>The music play,<br>Do what the music say,  
>You got to, kiss the boy . . ."<em>

He couldn't fit words to the heart-wrenching, awe inspiring emotion that now coursed through him, but all his addled brain could think was _Kurt._

"_You've got to, kiss the boy . . ._"

Blaine was only a few feet away from the log Kurt sat on. The Warblers were finishing their song and Blaine _knew- _he had to get to Kurt. He just had to do _something- _maybe he should kiss him? Maybe then would these feelings have a name and make sense. He felt like he was going to burst if he didn't talk to Kurt, if he didn't say-

"Guys!"

Holly's voice rang out just as he reached Kurt.

"Guys! Let's get back to work, we've been on a break far too long . . ."

Blaine just stayed frozen, internally cursing every God and omniscient power out there.

Slowly, everyone began moving and shuffling away, quietly laughing and discussing the Warblers's song.

Kurt and Blaine continued to stare at one another until Kurt broke eye contact and blushed, eyes downcast. Blaine watched as the delicate pink hue coloured Kurt's cheeks. Kurt looked back up and asked, "Can I help you, Blaine?"

There was a beat. Blaine stared imploringly at Kurt, willing the boy to see the change inside Blaine, to shed some light on whatever it was. Kurt just stayed impassive.

Blaine shook his head and sighed sadly. "No, Kurt." he finally said. "Nothing at all."

* * *

><p>The fire crackled and the sun had finally set and the sky above them was a purple blue hue, the stars already winking down at them. Blaine stared contemplatively at the fire, trying to shake the sudden tingles that kept running down his spine every time he caught Kurt's eye.<p>

Mr Shuester broke the conversation he was having with Holly and stood up, getting the groups attentions.

"Okay!" he smiled at the ensemble of Cheerios, Warblers and New Directions. "My kids have prepared a performance for you guys! So here they are- the New Directions!" he gestured to the group opposite and sat back down and Wes starting clapping, the others following suit.

The New Directions stood and started placing themselves around their side of the campfire, standing in a loose formation. Rachel stood at the forefront, hands clasped and the fire light showing her huge, smug grin.

"We put this together today to showcase tonight, after that disastrous obstacle course and 'bonding' time," she gestured with quotation marks at _bonding time _and threw a significant look back at Kurt (which Blaine didn't miss). "We hope you all enjoy it." She pursed her lips in a self satisfied way and said a bit quieter, "To use a crude phrase, we're going to _kick ass."_

Blaine snickered and watched her flit back to the group.

Artie in his wheelchair hugged his guitar to him and started up the riff and the New Directions kicked into gear.

"_Hey! Oh!  
>Hey! Oh!<br>(Do It!)"_

They jumped around on the logs and danced around the camp fire, fist pumping and high fiving, the choreography smooth and rehearsed. The Warblers stirred beside him in interest. Blaine had to admit- they were _really_ good.

The blonde one Sam, stepped forward and began singing.

"_I don't wanna waste my time again, by getting wasted with so-called friends.  
>Cause they don't know me, but they pretend to be part of my social scenery.<br>Hey, maybe I'm a critic, a cynic. Or am I jaded or am I afraid of it?  
>'Cause It's dragging me down, it's bumming me out,<br>it's making my head spin round and round!"_

He danced back and the Warblers had started clapping and Blaine grinned and clapped along as the New Directions danced and sang together, pointed at them and gesturing,

"_Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's right, what do you want from me?  
>Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's right, what do you want from me?<br>I get the feeling, we're on to something, I say "jump" and you start jumping.  
>Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's that, now what do you want from me?"<em>

Finn stepped to the right, away from the group and the Asian boy, Mike, stepped to the left and began dancing as Finn sang. Mike did some complicated flip and two step and Blaine whispered to Ethan sitting next to him, "_Dude, they're _awesome."

Finn sang to them, akwardly bopping on the spot, clicing his fingers and grinning wildly.

"_Just another day in the life of me, it's three am and I can't sleep.  
>And I've been thinking that we've been drinkin' in hopes to maintain our sanity.<br>Hey, maybe I'm a critic, a cynic, or am I crazy? Did they all hate me?  
>Cause they pick me up and throw me down. It's makin' my head spin round and round."<em>

Finn spun backwards and gripped Rachel's hand as they sang the chorus again, jumping onto the logs and gesturing for everyone to jump as they leaped off and fist pumped—and then Kurt stepped forward, looking directly at Blaine and suddenly Blaine had all eyes for Kurt.

"_Everything that I do is never good enough for you.  
>Do my best, dress to impress, wear my heart out of my chest,<br>Goin' nowhere fast, I don't know where I'm at.  
>When I say jump and you start jumping.<em> ("_Hey_!" they chorused) _We're on to something_."

Blaine didn't listen to the next part. Kurt had sung that to him for a reason, right? He was just as confused as Blaine was, wasn't he? Blaine desperately hoped that whatever he felt—and he had a vague idea exactly what that was—Kurt might feel just a small bit of it to.

The New Directions pulled up the Cheerios and Warblers with them as they began jumping up and down on the spot and almost yelling in their fervour,

"_Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's right, what do you want from me?  
>Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's right, what do you want from me?<br>I get the feeling, we're on to something, I say "jump" and you start jumping.  
>Can ya say "Hey"? Can ya say "Oh"? That's that, now what do you want from me?"<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Phew! I'm sorry for the delay, I planned to post this yesterday but real life got in the way! At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I want to thank you all _again _for your support of this fic. Your wonderful reviews and favourites _always _make my day- thank you all so much.

I adore this chapter. The scenes, the slow realisation, everything. Plus, Cheerio!Kurt and the Warblers singing Disney have always been two of my favourite things. I simply _had _to write them in. I hope you enjoy! The songs used are Mika's "Grace Kelly", "Kiss the Girl" from the Little Mermaid and "What Do You Want From Me" by Forever The Sickest Kids._  
><em>


	7. Chapter 7

"Wes, _kill me."_

Blaine flopped backwards onto Callum's bed, arm over his eyes and hair still standing up all over the place and still wet from his shower.

He and the fourteen other Warblers were in Wes and Callum's cabin, all of them in their usual places either on the floor or the two beds.

A sharp pain suddenly shot through his knee and he sat up, indignant. "What the hell was that?"

Wes innocently got up and retrieved his gavel from the floor after he'd obviously just thrown it at Blaine's knee. "Man up, it could've been your head."

"It probably would've just bounced off of his curls," Luke stated dreamily, messing with one of Blaine's curls with his fingers. "They're so boingy . . ."

Blaine extracted himself from Luke's grip and sat up. They would have to go to the food hall in less than five minutes, ready to go on that stupid mountain trek. Blaine crossed his arms and sighed.

"Oh, what are you pouting about _now?" _Keller huffed, bounding over and placing himself in Blaine's lap, arm slung round Blaine's shoulders. "A certain boy?"

"A certain tall, willowy nymph- like boy?" Thad sang, grinning.

"A certain-"

"Yes!" Blaine cut off, pushing Keller to the floor in exasperation. Keller stayed where he was on the floor and just grinned up at Blaine. "That boy, yes, yes OK!" He sighed and looked at them all before babbling out, "I have all these feelings for _him, _and I don't know what they are or what to do!"

"Blaine," Wes reprimanded, taking on his usual Big-Man-With-A-Gavel tone. "Why are you denying it? You _know _you feel something for Kurt—that's the first step. But why won't you just _admit _it?"

"I don't know! I don't even know _what _I'm feeling!"

"Yes you do," intoned Brad, nodding in a wise manner, "You do know. You like him. Romantically. You _like _Kurt Hummel." and the others nodded in agreement.

_You like Kurt Hummel._

The thought zipped its way through Blaine's brain and latched onto every nerve and cell until his whole body tingled and warmed pleasantly with the idea.

No, it wasn't an idea. Blaine had never had a thought or feeling make this much sense in his life. It _fit, _and how come he'd hadn't seen this before?

_Of course, _he liked Kurt.

"And it seems Blaine's finally seen the light," Wes whispered and grins were exchanged but another thought soon followed in Blaine's brain.

It came crashing down on him and put out the little fire of hope crackling inside.

That's right. Kurt hated him.

"But—but it doesn't _matter _how I feel, Wes!" Blaine insisted, "It doesn't matter because he doesn't feel the same way!"

"You know Blaine, you're many things," David remarked, his voice low, "But I really didn't think you were a coward."

Blaine narrowed his eyes and started to get angry. "Do you think I need all you to tell me stuff I already know? I _know _how I feel! But it doesn't _matter! _It _doesn't _because Kurt _hates _me. There's nothing I can do to change that!"

He stood up and began pacing agitatedly. "You don't know what it's like. You're all brilliant, you are. You accept me, you're my best friends—but you don't _know._"He faced them again, angry once more. "You guys can find girlfriends like _that; _it's so easy for you. You don't fight for your sexuality! You don't fight for your _right _to like someone every _day. _It's not the same for me! I have to constantly be on my guard. To society, I'm wrong. I'm a freak of nature. I shouldn't feel the way I do, I shouldn't even exist!"

It's pouring out of him now and he doesn't even know what he's saying anymore. He can't stop though, and it's like every little notch some _awful _person has scratched onto him is visible for them all to see. Once all this is out it won't be able to be taken back, Blaine _knows _that. He's just too far gone to care.

"So if I _finally _find someone who I actually _like," _Blaine breathed, standing still and breath coming fast and uneven, "then I'm not exactly going to go and set myself up for heartbreak. It's hard enough to _find _someone. To not be _liked _back—it's not about cowardice or just plain liking someone then, is it? It's alright liking a straight person, you _know _they won't like you back. But someone who's the same as you and even _then _won't look at you twice—well, it doesn't exactly do wonders for the self confidence does it? That's why I won't go after Kurt. Maybe I _am _a coward. But I don't want to get hurt anymore, when it's hard enough as it is." Blaine sat back down next to Wes on Wes's bed, shoulders slumped and feeling so _tired. _

There was a thick silence and Blaine felt awful and ashamed and a bit defiant too. Sometimes he had to be selfish and for _once_ not try to be mature or rational. He wanted to rant and rave. He wanted to make someone _see._

"But Blaine," Luke finally said softly. Blaine raised his eyes to meet Luke's startlingly clear blue ones. "Isn't that why you should be _fighting _for Kurt?" Blaine frowned and Luke smiled in Luke's dreamy way, as though Luke really believed he was on another wavelength as the rest of them and everything was just so obvious to him. "When will an opportunity like this come around again? You said it yourself, it's _not _easy. You need to fight for Kurt and _your _turn at love."

Oh God, these boys could really pile on the cheese couldn't they?

"I know Kurt likes you. I know he does, believe me."

And Luke sounded so certain that Blaine couldn't help feeling just the tiniest shred of hope that _maybe, _just maybe Kurt _did _like him. No chance in hell, of course. But there was always hope.

"So, you really like Kurt?" Keller asked, looking up at Blaine from the floor.

Blaine nodded.

There was a beat—and then all fourteen boys erupted in cheers and yells and Wes dived at Blaine and crowed, "Finally! Finally, he's seen the light! Hallelujah!"

Blaine laughed at them and the warm spot of happiness that had now settled itself inside him grew and grew until Blaine felt it in his throat and the tips of his fingers. He felt giddy and light headed.

He _liked _someone! Not just _any _someone either—he liked _Kurt._

"Oh my God!" David yelled, letting go of Blaine to hold Wes in terror. "_Wes! Blaine _is laughing with us! Not shouting at our stupidity, he's actually _laughing!" _

Wes pretended to faint against David in terror and howled, "The apocalypse is coming, Davey! He's laughing!" he pretended to sob and screamed, "I'm too young to die!"

David pretended to wipe tears from his eyes. "I think we might have to buy Kurt flowers! Blaine's actually _laughing _with us!"

Then Blaine smacked them both round the head and began lecturing them again.

Simon watched in amusement and leant over to Callum, whispering, "Or maybe not . . ."

* * *

><p>"By some cruel twist of fate—even though I don't believe in that sort of thing—it seems you and I have been paired together."<p>

Blaine looked up at immediately at the voice and try as he might, he couldn't hold back a smile once he met Kurt's eyes.

Kurt smiled back minutely and Blaine took it as a good sign.

"You don't believe in fate?" Blaine asked, trying to nonchalantly take a sip of water. He fiddled with the rim of the bottle and tried to look Kurt in the eye.

Kurt laughed pleasantly and shifted the rucksack on his back to a more easy position. "No, I don't. I don't believe in much of the unknown." He regarded Blaine and asked, "Do you?"

_Yes. _"No. I haven't had much evidence to believe in fate just yet." Blaine said, lying smoothly. Kurt was all the evidence Blaine needed.

Kurt considered for a moment and then said, "Me neither."

Holly began calling them over and Blaine got up off of the grass and faced Kurt. He gestured for them to walk and the two boys fell in step beside each other, and Blaine didn't bother to hide his grin.

* * *

><p>Kurt shifted the rucksack to his other shoulder and stopped walking.<p>

He heard Blaine panting behind him and Kurt began tapping his foot in an exaggerated, irritable manner.

"Kurt . . . Kurt," Blaine wheezed, clutching his side and finally reaching Kurt, "Can we slow down? I'm dying here."

Kurt rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. "Honestly, Blaine. You're being so melodramatic—you're so unfit."

"The only thing I heard in that sentence was _unf, _so thanks."

Kurt shook his head and made a disgusted noise before turning away, but Blaine didn't miss the smile on Kurt's face.

They had been walking for about half an hour—Kurt leading, of course—through the woods, trying their best to follow the track. Holly had pointed them towards the right of the camp where the trail began. From there, in pairs the group split up and began walking.

So far Blaine had moaned and whined and was convinced Kurt was leading them around in circles, though Kurt insisted it was _short cut, _and _no, _they weren't lost.

And secretly, Kurt had been intrigued at the thought of walking alone with Blaine. Even if they'd have spent the whole time fighting and not talking unless they had to, Kurt didn't mind.

Somehow Blaine singing to him yesterday had _changed _something. Regardless of the fact Blaine had just sang _randomly _to him, and then acted all weird and very un-Blaineish after the Warblers had sang Disney- he found himself looking at Blaine differently. Blaine was . . . something. He couldn't ignore Blaine's meanings behind the song. And last night _he'd _sang to Blaine. Those lyrics _meant _something- Kurt thought he must feel something, right?

And woah, since when was he thinking things like that?

He couldn't _believe _how stupid that was. Blaine was _Blaine._

Something small had shifted inside Kurt, like a puzzle piece wanting to fit into its place to make the big picture. Kurt was resolutely ignoring it though because what if he didn't like the big picture? What if the puzzle piece was going to cause him even more pain?

The wood around them was empty and the trees were becoming thinner and less frequent the further they walked until Kurt thought he heard the steady trickle of water.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked after a few more minutes of silence, "Can you hear water?"

Kurt nodded tightly and opened his mouth to say something—and then they reached the last of the trees and walked into a small clearing.

Directly in front of them was a stream, the water crackling and popping as it ran over the rocks and weeds. There were stumps ad logs littered around and Kurt halted in shock next to a particularly towering log.

The stream wasn't huge, but it was certainly too wide for them to just wade through. Besides, those rocks looked dangerous, jutting up from the water, with sharp edges and they looked big enough to do some damage.

Kurt put his hands to his hips and sighed irritably. "_Now _what are we meant to do?" he asked, more to himself than Blaine, who stood beside him.

"It's pretty here." Blaine hummed in an off handed manner, and Kurt turned to him incredulously.

"Pretty?" Kurt repeated, "Pretty? Blaine, we're stuck here with no way of crossing this stream—and you're doing an impression of David Attenbourough!"

"Kurt, _chill_," Blaine soothed, leaning up against the log Kurt stood next to. "Seriously, you're going to turn prematurely grey!"

Kurt sniffed and crossed his arms. "I doubt it—I use a special hair serum that keeps my hair colour intact. _No greys."_

Blaine looked shocked for a minute before laughing and giving a little shrug as though he wasn't surprised at all.

"How are we meant to get over this stream?" Kurt persisted and Blaine stopped laughing. Blaine clambered up onto the log he was leaning on and peered out into the trees. Kurt gaped and then cried, "What on _earth _are you doing, Blaine?"

Blaine stood on top of the log and squinted down at Kurt, who watched him with narrow eyes.

"I got an idea." Blaine said giddily.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and said sceptically, "Oh? Pray, tell."

Blaine tilted his head to the side and Kurt watched the emotions flit across Blaine's tanned face, the gold-green-brown eyes light up with an array of things Kurt didn't even try to understand. Maybe he didn't want to. There was a long pause.

Blaine set his jaw in what Kurt thought was determination and said, "You know what else I got, Kurt?"

"A Napoleon complex?" Kurt retorted scathingly, still looking up at the shorter boy and wondering what all this was about.

"Feelings. For you."

Blaine said it quietly and simply, but to Kurt the words sounded louder than a scream. They hung in the sudden silence and Kurt's spine tingled.

"What kind of feelings?" he found himself whispering, though he already, deep down, knew. He couldn't tear his eyes from Blaine's and the two stared at one another.

"I . . ." Blaine shifted, and then jumped down from the log and landed directly in front of Kurt. Kurt jumped. "I was searching for a song all morning to sing to you. To tell you exactly how I feel about you," Blaine laughed awkwardly, "and you wouldn't believe how hard _that _was. I hope this suffices."

Blaine grinned maniacally and gripped Kurt by the shoulders quite suddenly, tip toeing to accustom their height and pushed Kurt back against the log. Kurt gasped and began to protest but then Blaine let go and bounded away. Blaine winked and Kurt tried not to blush too hard, the log digging into his back making him fidget.

Blaine made a gesture for him to stay and then closed his eyes briefly before opening his mouth and singing.

"_So he said what's the problem baby  
>What's the problem I don't know<br>Well maybe I'm in love, love  
>Think about it every time<br>I think about it  
>Can't stop thinking 'bout it"<em>

Kurt watched in fascination as Blaine sang acapella, face alight and curls bouncing as he danced in front of Kurt.

"_How much longer will it take to cure this  
>Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love (love)<br>Makes me wanna turn around and face me but  
>I don't know nothing 'bout love"<em>

Blaine twirled then jumped forward and grabbed Kurt's hand and began spinning them around and laughing. Kurt held onto Blaine's hand for all he was worth because _—_

"_Come on, come on  
>Turn a little faster!"<em>

Blaine spun them around and Kurt laughed, breathless and giddy and feeling happier than he had done in a long, long while and not yet realising why he was suddenly this happy at Blaine singing him a song about love.  
><em><br>"Come on, come on  
>The world will follow after<br>Come on, come on  
>Cause everybody's after love"<em>

Blaine let go and ran backwards until he got to the stream—and then he leaped and landed on one of the larger rocks. Kurt gasped and cradled his hands to his mouth. Blaine wobbled for a minute, then straightened up, grin back in place. He looked straight at Kurt and Kurt could _see _what Blaine was trying to say through song_—_Blaine's eyes shone with the emotion behind them, and Blaine's face was alight with an openness Kurt had only ever seen there while Blaine was singing, and even then it was nothing like this. The sheer magnitude of Blaine's eyes hit Kurt and Kurt let out a soft breath, awe struck by the boy in front of him. That, in Blaine's eyes, wasn't hate. That wasn't anything _like _hate, right?

"_Well baby I surrender  
>To the strawberry ice cream<br>Never ever end of all this love  
>Well I didn't mean to do it<br>But there's no escaping your love!"_

Blaine sang with a desperate plea in his voice, _willing _Kurt to see, to listen. He wobbled and leaped again and landed in a crouched position, still singing and moving towards Kurt slowly.

"_These lines of lightning  
>Mean we're never alone,<br>Never alone, no, no"_

Blaine reached Kurt and held his hand once more and pulled Kurt closer until their chests were pressed tightly together. Kurt made a little "oh" sound before Blaine carried on and sang,

"_Come on, Come on  
>Move a little closer<em>  
><em>Come on, Come on<br>I want to hear you whisper_"

And Blaine breathed it into his ear, just as Kurt had done only a few days ago after leaving Blaine in the woods, and he shuddered as Blaine's hot breath hit his ear. They'd both come so far since that day.

"_Come on, Come on  
>Settle down inside my love"<em>

Blaine twirled and brought Kurt with him until their arms were tangled together and Blaine _still _held onto Kurt's hand. Blaine beamed at Kurt and sang,

"_Come on, come on  
>Spin a little tighter<br>Come on, come on  
>And the world's a little brighter<br>Come on, come on  
>Just get yourself inside her<em>

Love ...I'm in love"

With a tug, Blaine pulled Kurt to him and Kurt went willingly. Blaine stopped singing, and they both stood pressed up against each other, breathless and smiles slowly growing as they caught each other's eyes.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, and Kurt's breath hitched slightly. "I. . . I think I really like you."

The confession hung in the air and Blaine suddenly pulls back because Kurt hasn't said anything but just _stands there_ and Kurt berates himself because _why hasn't he said anything?_

"Guys!"

They both jump away in guilt and shock as Sam and Quinn come running out of the trees, giggling and looking happy to see them. Then Quinn's face falls as she clocks their awkward, guilty positions and the gap between them. Kurt is standing aloof, chin high and nose in the air as always, but Blaine is hanging his head and Kurt can see the boy is wringing his hands and oh, _God, _why didn't he say anything?

"We're glad we found you! We found a shortcut through the woods that leads to the other trail! You coming?" Sam asks awkwardly and Quinn shoots Kurt a questioning look, but Kurt just shakes his head minutely at her.

"Yeah Sam, we're coming."

Kurt's head whips round at Blaine's voice. It's smooth and polite as always, but there's a croak to it and a little lilt at the end that make's Kurt's heart ache because _he did that._

"Cool," Sam nods, shooting them both looks before turning, "Come on then."

And they both followed, a few feet apart and avoiding each other's eyes. Kurt didn't know how he was meant to fix this, or if he could even fix it at all.

Blaine's just told him he _likes _him and the puzzle piece is moving around again, closer and closer to Kurt's heart and he can't bear this. The onslaught of emotions and tangible tension between them.

It's because he's _feeling _something now. But he's just not too sure what it is.

* * *

><p>The campsite was barren, the sun just setting and everything was becoming shadowed and dark. The colours seeped from the trees and flowers as the sun vanished, and the wind gently blew at the leaves.<p>

Kurt stood at his window in his cabin, cheek resting on his hand. It was rapidly growing darker and Kurt felt his mood worsen.

He scanned the empty campsite again. If he craned his neck just so, he could see the Warblers cabins.

He sighed again.

"Boy, you're sucking up all the air with those sighs."

He turned to see Mercedes sitting up in her bed, looking concerned but slightly amused. He grimaced and sat down next to her on her bed. She pulled him into a one armed hug.

"What's on your mind, boo?" she murmured, and her comforting tone nagged at Kurt.

He considered for a minute before admitting truthfully, "As much as it pains me to say . . . Blaine."

Mercedes giggled and said, "Right, figures. And what exactly are you thinking about Blaine . . .?"

Kurt looked at her and considered telling her. Then he did anyway. "He told me he liked me. He sang a song to be about love and we _could _have kissed, Mercedes, I know we could have. But I didn't say anything back! He told me he liked me and I didn't _say _anything! And then he looked so sad, and I'd done that! But he'd _told _me he liked me. He does, and my God, how am I supposed to react to that because that's never _happened _to me before!"

Mercedes beamed, but then it slipped slightly as she said, "Well, don't you like him back?"

Kurt let out a short breath. That was the thing, wasn't it?

All day he'd been trying to gather his thoughts. The walk to the mountain and back to camp had been so awkward. He'd tried to make sense of these _feelings. _This was something Kurt Hummel had never faced before and just the very thought of him not being able to handle his own mind infuriated him and scared him.

He faced Mercedes head on and nervously aced his fingers together, tangling them together awkwardly. "I . . . You know when I was crushing on Finn?" she nodded empathetically, knowing all too well the awkwardness and heartbreak and suffering of unrequited love those months had caused him. "Well . . . With Finn, it was like—it was like I thought he was my "type." And because of that I had to. . . I don't know, every little trait and flaw he had was something I convinced myself that I wanted—I didn't _like _Finn. I liked the _concept_ of having Finn as a boyfriend. I would imagine my perfect boyfriend in my head and I would just stick Finn's face on him. I thought and told myself everything about Finn fit in with my "perfect boyfriend" image." Kurt glanced at Mercedes and could see she was frowning ever so slightly. "He gave me just that bit of kindness. He was sympathetic and marginally decent to me—I latched onto that. Mercedes, I'm an out gay teenager in _Ohio. _I haven't even had my first kiss yet. I was—and still am, honestly—completely starved of any affection. Could you blame me for wanting to just be _happy? _I thought Finn could give me that happiness, I really did." Kurt laughed bitterly. "And look how well _that _worked out."

Mercedes stopped his fingers from twisting and entwined her hands with his in a comforting gesture. "But how does this relate to Blaine?"

Kurt grimaced again, mouth twisted unpleasantly. "What . . . What I felt for Finn wasn't real. It was me _deluding _myself about what I felt and what I thought _Finn_ felt. I was absolutely embarrassing and ridiculous, I know. I was pretty selfish too; I made Rachel look like a prostitute Barbie doll just so Finn could like me."

He paused and blew out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He was going to say it, he really was. He just had to say the words; he had to put the rush of feelings and temperamental emotions and thoughts into an orderly line. He had to control this.

"And . . .?" Mercedes prompted.

"And . . . I thought I loved Finn." He stared at her deploringly. "It's taken me forever and a few Audrey Hepburn movies to realise it, but I really thought I loved him. But . . . What I feel for Blaine is different to what I felt for Finn. I ached for Finn, I did. Not any more, those feelings are gone, _believe _me. But I just wanted Finn so badly. I wanted him to love me. So . . ." he was almost there, "These things I feel for Blaine. I didn't think in the beginning they were . . . I don't feel for Blaine the way I felt about Finn. With Finn it was a need. With _Blaine_ . . ." he faltered, and finally the most important thought he'd had last night while lying awake that night thinking all of this finally reached his lips. "With Blaine I _want _it. I didn't think I liked Blaine because it wasn't like how it was with Finn. It wasn't a straight away, sudden thing. It wasn't something acceptable and guilty and foolish. I thought it wasn't even a crush because I _really _thought I loved Finn. Oh God, I'm not even making any sense. It's something that's happened over time, and I haven't even realised! It wasn't real with Finn because there wasn't anything there to begin with. I was put down and constantly having my heart broken. I felt like Finn's dirty, shameful secret. A crush he felt ashamed of. But Blaine . . . He likes me. He actually likes me, and I've never even _had _that. With Blaine I know it's real because it's something I can feel in every pore of my body. I didn't even realise it was there, but it just _is. _It's natural and every time I keep thinking about it makes more and more sense. It's _never _been like that. I've never felt that way, ever."

Mercedes grinned and Kurt knew this is exactly why she was his best friend. She alone could make some _sense _of his ramblings. "Basically, the reason you haven't realised you like Blaine and the reason this is different is because you actually _love _Blaine, whereas with Finn—your only crush and true comparison for these things- you _wanted _to love him?"

He nodded, and then Kurt pursed his lips. "Wait, who said anything about love? I _like _him, but I-" he gasped.

Had he really just said, _out loud,_ that he _liked _Blaine? "Oh my _Gaga." _

_He liked Blaine._

Mercedes let out a relieved, happy laugh. "Finally! We were all about to hit you with bricks if you didn't realise it soon!" she hugged him and Kurt still stayed unresponsive and dumbfounded. "Why do you still insist on hating him though? When did you realise all this?"

"I don't know?" Kurt choked out, trying to not look like a gaping fish. "I. . . I don't really know. I guess because I thought I _didn't _like him I automatically assumed I hated him." He sniffed in an affronted way. "And I really was angry at him. Besides," he cried, "I was confused! I looked at him and the whole time it was just _there _and it _confused _me, and I didn't know what to do!"

"So you just slapped him?" Mercedes smirked and Kurt at least had the decency to blush.

"Yes, OK. We've established everything now, fine. But . . ." Kurt hesitated, worried now he had finally got round to admitting the one problem that had stopped him from admitting all of this sooner. "I didn't say anything back. He probably thinks I still hate him, and I _don't, _quite obviously. What am I going to do to put this right?"

Mercedes tilted her head to the side. "Go and find him. Tell him."

Kurt gaped. "I can't do that! I mean, yes that's very me, Mercedes. You know I couldn't give a damn and I'd go after him myself. But this is different. This is _real—_he's a gay guy who _likes _me-" and right then, that puzzle piece fell into place and Kurt nearly cried at the overwhelming feeling inside him. Liking Blaine was just that piece and it _fit. _And Oh God, he'd wasted a whole week _fighting _with Blaine!

"Exactly," Mercedes conceded. She held his hand tightly, "Before with Finn and even Sam, you _knew _you were going to get rejected. That's why I think you went after them so hard. You knew what would happen so you'd already prepared yourself for heartbreak. But this time it's a boy who likes you and you _really _like him. It isn't a fantasy and not some make believe crap. This is _real, _and if he rejects you it's gonna hurt more. You just haven't realised all this because you don't want to get your heart broken for real." Mercedes pulled him into a hug and Kurt loves her, he really does. "Besides, if he does say no to you I can cut him real good."

Kurt laughed and pulled back. He stood up.

_I'm going to do it, I am._

He clasped his hands and fidgeted, then threw a quick look at Mercedes. "I'm scared."

She just smiled and said, "I know. But that's the best bit."

Then she all but pushed him out of the door and into the darkness.

* * *

><p>It wasn't hard to find Blaine.<p>

Kurt had emerged from the cabin and saw a figure stooped dejectedly over the campfire and Kurt could make out in the fire light the curls and profile of Blaine.

He found himself walking towards Blaine. Then Blaine looked up and Kurt thought it was all worth it—the fighting, the mixed up emotions and every look—when a glimmer of hope and affection showed themselves in Blaine's eyes.

Blaine stood and stumbled forward, meeting Kurt halfway and then they both stopped and stared. Just waiting.

Kurt stared, eyes flickering across the expanse of Blaine's face. He opened his mouth and whispered, "How do you know?"

Blaine exhaled and blushed slightly. He scratched at his neck and run a hand through his curls. "How? I don't know how to _explain _it," Blaine stated helplessly, and Kurt can see him searching for the right words. Blaine licked his lips and looked away before finally taking a breath and looking back at Kurt. "I never hated you. Never. I _thought _I did—I didn't hate _you. _I hated what you made me _feel _about myself."

Kurt's surprised and indignant and ready to interrupt but Blaine goes on, stepping forward and capturing Kurt's hand. Kurt's heart flutters slightly, and all he can think is _damnnit. _

"I've been _myself _this week. I haven't been the people pleaser. I haven't put aside my own crap to be a team player. You made me feel open and exposed and you _made _me realise what I'm _doing—_I'm making myself miserable. I tell myself being gay is a bad thing and I punish myself for it, which is _wrong. _You make me want to just be happy and the good kind of selfish. You make me want to just laugh and get a grip and be so, so _happy,_" Blaine laughed, and the sound made Kurt thrill because _he _caused that laugh. _He _did. He made someone giddy and flushed.

"But it's not just that," Blaine breathed and suddenly the air is electric again. "You make me feel dizzy. I look at your _eyes _and I can't even _breathe, _Kurt," they're so close, pressed together tightly, not even an atom of air between them, "How could I think _that _was hate? You make me feel. . . I can't even explain it! You're . . . You're so unbelievably and _infuriatingly _remarkable. And this is just _happening . . ." _Blaine faltered and their faces are not even an inch apart.

Kurt can't believe it's happening, but it can't _not _be happening. The realist inside him is sneering and telling him this is some elaborate fantasy, or Blaine is setting him up for a cruel trick to add to their score boards. This doesn't happen to _him. _After being told so for so long it's starting to seem true—until now.

"You mean it? You . . . You like me?" Kurt whispered and his eyes are welling up and his throat is tightening but he can't care about that right now because this really might be happening to him—

"Yes," Blaine laughed gently, and Blaine's hands loosen from Kurt's so Blaine can wrap them in Kurt's hair. "Yes, I like you."

And then Blaine is kissing him, and Kurt feels the tears spill over as his eyes flutter shut.

This _is _real. Blaine is kissing him—infuriating, patronising, charming and smooth Blaine. The Blaine who _likes _him. Why is Kurt even thinking because _Blaine is kissing him—_

Blaine sighed against Kurt's mouth and and his eyes flutter shut. Kurt brought his hand up to rest against Blaine's curls, and he is hesitant and unsure of what to do sort of, because this is nothing like kissing Brittany. He _wants _this. This feels amazing and Kurt could do this _forever_. His lips are slightly parted and Blaine is running one hand up Kurt's forearm and leaving goose bumps there, and Kurt is blushing slightly because he has his hand rested on another _boys _hip, but he's not being punched or sneered at or called mean names and the thought makes him want to cry for days but Blaine is _kissing _him, and he can't really think much else.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yes! It finally happened! What do you think, was it worth the wait? Again (and I will never tire of saying this), thank you all so _much _for your reviews and hits. I haven't stopped smiling for days! I'm so grateful to each and everyone of you, and I'm so glad you like this! I'm sorry about the wait- I've recently discovered something called a social life and it's pretty fun! Who knew? I'll be posting the chapters a lot faster now, so the next part will be up soon.


	8. Chapter 8

After a few sweet, tantalising moments Blaine broke away. Kurt followed Blaine's lips, eyes still shut and he exhaled softly. _Oh sweet Lord._

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

Kurt's eyes stayed shut. He still leant forward slightly, mouth parted. He could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in the blissful sensation of kissing Blaine. Pressing his _mouth _to Blaine's. The wonderful moment when he'd _kissed _Blaine—

"Kurt?" Blaine repeated, and this time he sounded more anxious. "You . . . Um . . ."

Kurt opened his eyes quickly at Blaine's tone. Blaine's face was only a few millimetres from his own and it took him off guard for a minute. Blaine stared at Kurt and Kurt thought he could have counted every individual long, ash coloured eyelash of Blaine's.

"What?" Kurt murmured his own voice now high and nervous, his expression mirroring the one on Blaine's face, "What? Did I do something wrong? I-"

"No!" Blaine assured him quickly, blushing profusely and grabbing tightly at Kurt's hands. He smiled sloppily at Kurt's little gasp as he squeezed his hands, "No, you didn't do _anything _wrong. That was . . . God, that was the most amazing thing _ever!_" Blaine grinned, and Kurt couldn't stop the slow grin that graced his face and the blush now tinting his cheeks. Blaine met his eyes again and then his smile dipped slightly. "It's just . . . Well, you haven't said whether or not you like me back."

Blaine's head dropped forward and Kurt's mouth popped open in surprise. _Really?_ He would have laughed but it would have been too inappropriate and hurt Blaine's feelings. Instead he set his jaw and inclined his head to Blaine's so the other boy would meet his eyes.

"Blaine. Oh my God, Blaine. You just _kissed _me, and I didn't slap and or hit you—if any other person had done that and I would've been horrified. Isn't that enough to convince you? I thought you'd be a little smarter than that." Kurt teased and Blaine looked up, smiling slightly but still looking a little wounded. Kurt smiled despite himself because Blaine _was _still infuriating—expect now it was adorable. Funny, that.

"So, you like me too?" Blaine asked, hope evident in his voice.

Kurt laughed at Blaine's expression and said, "Yes, Blaine! Yes I like you, you oblivious boy!"

Blaine grinned again and pulled Kurt closer one more. "Really?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Kurt rolled his eyes and looked away, "No Blaine, I just kissed you to prolong your pain! _Yes, _really. Urgh, I feel kind of stupid actually. We've spent all that time fighting and I finally came to my senses and realised that I _liked _you . . ."

Blaine beamed, and Kurt had never seen the boy smile so brightly. "Good. That means now, of course. . ."

He cupped Kurt's face and before Kurt could even try to stop his head spinning giddily or his mouth to stop grinning so widely Blaine captured his lips in a kiss again.

Kurt was sure he'd never get used to this. The easy way another boy's lips melded so swiftly with his, or the gentle caress of another boy's fingers on his cheek. The simple touch was making his hands spasm in Blaine's hair and his heart thrum painfully, but it was so utterly _fantastic _that Kurt could bear the pain.

And this was _Blaine. _It made Kurt's head hurt with the weirdness of it all, but as Blaine slowly and cautiously ran his finger across Kurt's cheekbone and pressed harder onto Kurt's lips, Kurt knew it wasn't all that weird at all.

They eased apart gently without urgency or haste. It was just simple and easy and right. Kurt stared hazily into Blaine's eyes and smiled.

"So . . . What now?" Blaine asked after a few more moments of silence.

Kurt considered, absentmindedly tracing Blaine's wrist with his pinky finger as he thought.

"Do we tell everyone we finally _did _something?" Blaine whispered, "I mean, they've been waiting long enough."

Kurt worried his lip and then murmured, "No. No, don't tell them."

He watched Blaine's face fall minutely and then the Blaine of old was back again, composed and smooth. Not a trace of emotion in those tell-tale hazel-green eyes. "Oh. I understand. You don't want to tell them because. . . Its fine, I-"

"_Blaine." _Kurt huffed, tone coloured in exasperation. "It's not because of _you. _My God, in the last five minutes you've been so convinced I don't want you." Then he did something which surprised even himself. Kurt pulled together his courage and pecked at Blaine's lips. He'd _never _done that before. He'd never kissed a boy of his own accord like that. A surge of pride and pure, unadulterated happiness shot through him pleasantly as he watched Blaine's face light up at the touch. "I _do _want you. It's just . . . You don't _know _them. The Warblers will be fine with it, I'm sure. But the New Directions-" Kurt huffed irritably again, "-no doubt Santana will make some crude gay joke, or Finn will unintentionally say something ignorant and cruel and I don't _want _that! I don't want to ruin this, it's just . . .I've never been this happy ever and I don't-"

"Hey," Blaine soothed, running two fingers across Kurt's forehead and trying to smooth out the lines there. "Hey, it's OK. I understand, really. We don't have to tell them, not until you're ready."

Kurt looked at him sceptically but Blaine just smiled that sincere, charming smile of his that Kurt had found not-really-sort-of patronising a while ago.

"So, we're . . ." Kurt began, not wanting to say anything in case he made a fool of himself—but what were they now?

Blaine blushed and looked down at their entwined and began to stammer, "I . . ."

A light suddenly washed over the camp site and illuminated the camp fire. Kurt and Blaine both jumped and looked around; a lamp had gone off outside Holly's hut and they heard footsteps from somewhere and the sound of voices getting closer.

"Everyone will be coming soon." Kurt hissed, staring at Blaine before looking around at the approaching figures in the darkness.

Blaine pulled his hands away from Kurt's. Kurt looked at Blaine's eyes for a hint of something that would show if Blaine had been offended or hurt by what Kurt had said, but Blaine just smiled a little sadly at him and said, "I understand, remember?"

Kurt frowned but said nothing more as he heard the crackle of Santana's voice in the oncoming crowd.

"What were you going to say before?" Kurt asked Blaine frantically, wanting to know before the others came and they'd have to act like they hated each other. His heart squeezed so painfully at the thought, but he held his chin a little higher in defiance. His _heart _could shut up. It was for the _best_—and only for now, right?

Blaine opened his mouth, but then the abrupt sound of Keller, catcalling and calling out, "Hey Blaine, are you actually _talking _to Kurt?" reached them and Blaine closed it again.

A silent agreement passed between the two and after a few moments as one they strode forward toward their own Glee clubs—but before they split up to go their separate ways, Blaine brushed his hand against Kurt's briefly, making it look like an accident. Kurt nudged Blaine's hand with his own and tried to fight his smile.

_Just for now, _he told himself.

And just for a moment, he hated Santana and Finn and their unintentional remarks that _hurt _and Ohio and every homophobe and law against whom he was.

He reached New Directions as they walked toward the campfire and he made a beeline for Mercedes. She looked at him expectantly. He just shook his head and he watched her face fall.

He wanted to scream and tell her, "Yes! Yes, someone likes me and wants to kiss me and be there for me! Yes, God yes!" but he didn't. Kurt crawled in on himself far, far away from the others, praying that this wouldn't change what had just happened. That Blaine would forgive him for not wanting to ruin what they'd just had. Tomorrow he'd seek out Blaine and he'd kiss him and tell everybody.

But for now, for one night, maybe he could save both of them the abuse.

_Just for now._

* * *

><p>"Blaine, tomorrow's our last day here."<p>

Blaine sighed. "Your point, Wesimer?"

Wes rolled out from under David and looked at Blaine pointedly. "My _point, _young man, is that yesterday you serenaded Kurt and realised your undying love for him—and yet, I don't find you both gaily skipping through the woods holding hands, do I?" Wes glanced at David (they were both snuggling on David's bed) and asked, ". . . what did Kurt say?"

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted the metallic, coppery taste of blood. What _did _Kurt say, exactly? Blaine couldn't get his head around it. Yes I like you but I'm too ashamed for anyone to know? That's certainly sounded like it. No, but Kurt wouldn't do that. Kurt _liked _him. If Kurt really was as happy as he made out about all this then he _must _want them to be together, it really _was _just the New Directions holding him back. _But, _Blaine thought bitterly and a little childishly, _if he likes me then why should it matter?_

"Nothing," he finally confessed, keeping his head turned from the two boys opposite. "He didn't say anything. He didn't have chance—Sam and Quinn interrupted us."

"But you were talking by the campfire . . ." David hinted.

Blaine rolled over, his back to them. "Kurt said he didn't want anything to do with me. He said he hated me, and that's that." Blaine let out a heavy sight that may have had some real conviction behind it, and put on his best poker face as he sat up and faced them. "I'm going for a walk. What time do they want us by the camp fire?"

Wes frowned but replied, "Holly cancelled the stuff for today. Apparently Coach Sylvester caused a ruckus over in the field. Something to do with canons and wild beavers." Wes shrugged nonchalantly.

David snorted, "Who but you, Wessy, says 'ruckus'?"

Blaine left the cabin as Wes gave an indignant protest. The cabin door shut, and then both Wes and David's faces fell and they were serious immediately.

"Kurt couldn't have said that." David said, voice hushed and staring at Wes.

"Maybe he's in denial? Blaine told us he's had all that crap happen to him at his school—the kid's never had someone like him before."

"But neither has Blaine," David insisted, "and we can't just let Kurt waltz in and break his heart, no matter how bad Kurt's life may be. Blaine went through some rough stuff to, remember?"

Wes flinched. "It took us _weeks _to get him to open up—remember when Keller tried to hug him after his second week and Blaine started screaming? I've never seen him so scared or upset."

"I know, Wes, I know," David sighed, his voice hollow and matching Wes's helpless tone. They sat in silence before David spoke again. "We have to get them together, _some_how. We have to."

Wes nodded and curled up beside David again.

Silence.

"Wes?"

"Yes, Davey?"

"Your hair smells like strawberries."

"Observant, David. I like it."

* * *

><p>"Why are we here again?" Finn asked, putting up his hand in question.<p>

Wes waved a hand towards the empty chairs. Finn sat and the rest of New Directions trotting along behind him and taking seats too.

The Warblers were already seated and making their usual noise. Some of the boys got up to talk to the rival Glee club, already fast friends with some of them.

"I really hope this is worth it." Thad whispered sceptically, his eyebrows raised as he watched the blonde boy from New Directions tackle Dan in a hug.

"It is," Wes assured, bringing out his gavel from the silk linings of its case carefully. "When Kurt and Blaine are making out by the lake, it will _all _be worth it." Then he gave three raps on the hard wood table with his gavel and reluctantly the noise died down.

"Okay, thank you for coming," Wes began, "We called you all together again because the success of the last meeting-"

"Success?" Keller queried, looking at Wes incredulously. "The mission of the _last _meeting was to get Kurt and Blaine together—_they're not together."_

"No," Wes said, rolling his eyes, "They aren't. _But, _they've admitted their feelings haven't they? Blaine's _told _Kurt what he feels. Now all we need to do is get them together."

"Why is Kurt so against liking Blaine?" Callum asked, directing the question at Mercedes.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Don't say it like Kurt's in the _wrong. _Kurt's not one to just accept things like that. He needs proof and evidence—if Blaine says he likes him, he needs to _prove _he likes him."

"But Blaine's already done that!" Callum replied, "He sang Kurt a _love song, _for pity's sake. Kurt can't really be _that-_"

"End the sentence right there, boy." Mercedes growled, placing her hands threateningly on her hips. "You don't _know _Kurt."

"Exactly," David said, addressing them both before Callum could reply. "We don't know Kurt and you don't know Blaine—that's why we both have to work together to make them _see. _We need to do something—there's only today and tomorrow left and chances are they won't see each other again ever after this."

"What are you suggesting?" Quinn asked.

David and Wes looked at each other before turning back to the group and chorusing, "Everything."

"Anything that will make them talk to one another for longer than a minute." David suggested.

"Or something that will get them both laughing or talking, _anything _that isn't tense or hostile."

"But that's what Kurt and Blaine _do," _the Asian girl from New Directions retorted. "They _are _tense and hostile. How are we supposed to change that?"

"Your lack of enthusiasm and effort is appalling, loser I do not know the name of," came a voice from the shadows. "As is your dress sense. I have the urge to either cross myself or use your black netting as a way of capturing small fish in the ocean."

Sue Sylvester emerged from the shadows, sneer in place and her hands on her hips. Wes grinned broadly while David groaned.

"What can we do for you, Miss Sylvester?" Wes asked, politely standing as the woman entered.

She looked him over and then snarled, "Sit down, boy."

He did so happily.

Sue strode forward, looking over the assembled group and addressing them in her usual manner. "Porcelain and the Hobbit are on the brink of finally doing some frolicking through fields of gay-dom, but right now your pitiful attempts at helping them get there sicken me. I'd spend all day insulting you and your atrocious meeting organisation skills but I have a busy schedule and we have no time to waste."

"Who's Porcelain?" Rachel interjected.

"Did you just call Blaine a hobbit?" Jeff grinned.

Wes stared in awe as the foreboding woman. Sue continued, "And as you all have _nothing _that could possibly help, though I'm not all that surprised considering the majority of your brains consist of Top 40's hits and Chinese takeaway delivery numbers—_I _have devised a plan."

* * *

><p>"Come here often?" Blaine called, grin gracing his face.<p>

Kurt turned. Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes lit up and Kurt gave him a wide smile before smirking quickly. "Only for you."

Blaine laughed loudly and walked a little faster. He reached Kurt, and slowly Blaine looked up at the paler boy. It was no new to them both, this rush of emotion and affection—Blaine thought how cliché it all was, but then Kurt very hesitantly nudged Blaine's hand with his and Blaine couldn't care less about cliché's.

He roped his hand through Kurt's and silently thrilled at Kurt's swift smile.

"Wes and David asked about us this morning." Blaine admitted after a moment.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

Blaine laughed softly and gently brushed away a strand of hair from Kurt's forehead. Kurt tutted and batted Blaine's hands away, and Blaine smiled. "I said you didn't want anything to do with me. You'd never like me and I should leave you alone." He laughed. "I kinda didn't want to say anything, they looked like disappointed parents."

Blaine's words had the opposite effect on Kurt. Kurt's smile slipped and his eyes lost a bit of their warmth.

"Oh?" Kurt lilted, a small frown between his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Blaine shrugged and tried not to frown. What he'd said wasn't true, was it? He was supposed to say something like that, why was Kurt upset? "I said even though I'd sang to you you _still _rejected me."

Kurt pulled his hand away. "Right."

"Kurt?" Blaine frowned. Why was he making such a big deal of this? "You _told _me not to tell them that. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kurt grumbled, turning away.

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand but Kurt folded his arms and kept his head down.

Blaine gritted his teeth. Why was Kurt so _difficult _sometimes_? _Would it kill him to tell Blaine how he felt? It was suddenly like yesterday had never happened- Kurt was cold an aloof again, trying to push Blaine away.

Blaine was suddenly annoyed. He'd told Kurt how he felt. He'd gone on a limb to please Kurt, to try and get Kurt to like him back. What was Kurt so afraid of? "You _told _me to say that though!" Blaine began, trying to make sense of Kurt's reaction. "You said—"

"I am very much aware of what I said, Blaine!" Kurt said coldly.

"Then what's the _problem?" _Blaine nearly snapped, exasperated with Kurt and trying to figure everything out while Kurt stood and gave him nothing to go on.

"The _problem,_" Kurt emphasised, whirling round to face Blaine, "Is that you made me sound like an utter jerk!"

"_What?" _Blaine spluttered. He was lost.

"You told them I just _rejected _you, that I wanted _nothing _to do with you!" Kurt said scathingly, sarcasm dripping from each word and Blaine could almost _see _the over-pronounced words scrawled in italics. "Is that how you really feel, Blaine? Is it?"

Blaine didn't say anything at all- he couldn't process what Kurt was saying because _how _could he feel that way? Kurt was . . . He'd told Kurt exactly what he felt, why was he be so convinced Blaine didn't mean it?

Kurt narrowed his eyes and cut in before Blaine could even open his mouth. "Obviously, _you do."_

"No! Kurt!" Blaine faltered, staggering forward and trying to reach for the boy but Kurt just stepped back coldly and folded his arms across his chest again as though he thought he might be able to keep himself together like that.

"Whatever, Blaine." Kurt mumbled. He began to walk away, out of the woods where they'd agreed to meet. Out of Blaine's reach even though he'd only _just _gotten him.

"Kurt! Come back, you're overreacting, this so stu—"

"Don't you dare say this is stupid, or I'm being dramatic, Blaine!" Kurt said shrilly. "Don't you dare! You said it yourself, _I don't care_. I _knew _it; you're still so strung up on me not wanting to tell anyone—but, urgh!" Kurt threw his hands up in frustration and Blaine watched as behind Kurt's cold and icy mask he was letting the doubts and fears he most likey felt from last night chip away at him. He'd been there. It was easy enough to understand Kurt, but why wasn't Kurt letting him help?

"I understand, Kurt." Blaine said quietly, trying desperately to make the other boy find sense. "You've never had this before—no one's ever told you they like you in the way I do. I get it, you're confused and worried I'm lying but I'm _not! _You're just finding a way to not deal with it! You're just trying to find anything to explode at me over because that's all you know! You don't know how to deal with this—"

"Stop it!" Kurt burst out, face screwed up in attempt to keep from crying in frustration, "Stop trying to _fix _this! Stop trying to understand me! You need to get into _your _head that I don't _need _you to try and rescue me! You're Mr Perfect now and _fixed _your problems in your past—great! You have a perfect school and accepting friends and I _get _you think you can help me because you've been there yourself, but I don't _want _you too! So stop trying to _prove _that and get out of my head! "

"How did you . . .?" Blaine faltered, distracted by how Kurt seemingly knew about his past.

"If you're hurt by me wanting to protect us both then _fine. _But at least _say, _and stop trying to protect me and make me feel weaker than I already feel- then maybe I _will _stop doubting you. But for now, just leave me alone for while." Kurt finished, and walked off in the opposite direction.

Blaine stared after him. What the hell had just happened?

He had no idea what he was supposed to do now, and by the looks of it Kurt wasn't going to help him find out.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked back to his cabin dejectedly. It had been a <em>one day<em> and they were already screaming at each other again! He sighed hollowly. Maybe he and Kurt really did just hate each other . . .

"Blaine?"

Blaine didn't life his head to see who had said his name. Instead he flopped down onto the steps leading to the door of his cabin and put his head in his hands. He felt someone sit beside him and the steps creaked from underneath them.  
>"What's wrong?"<p>

Blaine peered through his fingers at Wes, who was frowning in concern. He sighed again and murmured, "Me and Kurt had a fight."

"What's new?" said Wes sadly and Blaine smiled bitterly.

"I thought we were actually _getting _somewhere though," Blaine admitted, fiddling with his curls and staring out toward the empty campsite, "We were talking fine. I sang to him and he . . . We were OK, and then he just blew up in my face." He dropped his head into his hands again and sighed heavily. "I don't know what to do."

"What did he say?"

Blaine decided to tell him _some _of the truth. Maybe that way he could help Blaine. "He keeps trying to push me away. He screamed at me and said I had to stop trying to _fix _him- I don't get it! I just try to make him see . . ." Blaine trailed off at the exasperated look on Wes's face. "What?"

Wes sighed. "Blaine, of course you try to fix him. You try to fix everybody!"

"No I don't-!"

"Yes, you do. We think it's because you couldn't really fix yourself after your _own _past, so you try and fix everyone else. I think you need to stop trying to _understand _Kurt. Kurt doesn't want some knight in shining armour Blaine, no matter what you might think. I think _you _do. You want some perfect guy, so you keep trying to _fix _Kurt. You keep trying to make him fit into the guy you want." Wes smiled a little at Blaine's nonpulssed expression. "I think once you stop trying to do that, maybe you and Kurt will have a chance."

Blaine sunk his head into his hands again with a groan. "Now I _really _don't know what to do."

He heard Wes shift beside him and Blaine felt him pat his knee. "It's a good job your boys do then, isn't it?"

Blaine snorted half heartedly and lifted his head. "My boys?"

Wes smiled. "We know how you can win over Kurt. Sue helped us come up with it-"

"_Sue?"_

"—and we think it's perfect."

Blaine raised an eyebrow in question but Wes just grinned and gripped his shoulder and then pulled him up. Blaine got up unsteadily and made to ask Wes what the plan _was_ but Wes simply shook his head and said, "Holly wants us all to go to the lake. I'll explain on the way there."

* * *

><p>"<em>You're just finding a way to not deal with it! You're just trying to find anything to explode at me over because that's all you know!"<em>  
>Kurt sniffed again and his hands twitched angrily. Mercedes turned her head to him curiously but he shook his head and tried to listen to what Holly was saying.<p>

They all sat by the lake in small groups as Holly congratulated them on their success that week and other things that Kurt wasn't all that interested in.

Why was it so easy for Blaine to get inside Kurt's head? Was he really that predictable, really that easily read? It wasn't fair—_yes, _of course he'd doubted what Blaine had said. They'd disliked each other since their first conversation; it wasn't going to be easy adjusting to this new found attraction. Yet wasn't love mistaken for hate in every relationship? Like in that romcom he'd watched with Mercedes, the one with Julie Andrews and Richard Gere and the awful wardrobe department.

So if this liking was there all along why was he finding it so hard to just let it be?

He secretly glanced over at Blaine who sat with the other Warblers across the lake. Blaine wasn't paying attention at all. He was talking with Wes gesturing wildly.

Kurt was curious for a second as to why the two boys weren't listening to Holly, and then remembered he was mad at Blaine and therefore shouldn't be even _thinking _about him. He turned away.

Maybe it wasn't getting used to it that was the difficult part. Maybe—and Kurt frowned despite himself—Blaine was right.

Since when did _Kurt _have people telling him they liked him like _that_? Blaine was right; he _didn't _know how to deal with it. He _couldn't _deal with it. Kurt was as insecure as the next person, even a bit more so, and always doubted every good thing that ever happened to him because good things never _did _happen to him. He was proud and he _hated _showing weakness—he hadn't when his father had a heart attack and the Glee club had almost suffocated him with their comfort. Not until the last moments when he was in front of the only man who'd ever accepted him, that's when he showed weakness. So he wasn't about to show any now. Damn Blaine, regardless whether he was right or not.

It _was _Kurt. He couldn't just _let _himself be happy and explore this new feeling, this new sensation of being _liked. _He had to doubt _this _too. He had to push Blaine away and like Blaine had said, _explode. _That's how he felt at the minute—ready to explode with all this pent up emotion.

There were suddenly cheers and yells from the group around him and Kurt looked up to see Holly had finished talking. Mercedes was hugging Tina and Sam was clapping Kurt on the back. He looked over to see the Warblers hurrying over to talk to the New Directions and the small smile he's had after Mercedes's sudden hug slipped as he caught Blaine's eye. The shorter boy was hastily making his way toward Kurt and right now Kurt didn't want that.

Kurt hurriedly turned towards Mercedes and tried to speak to her but Mercedes had already saw Blaine and had opened her mouth to speak to him.

"Mercedes!" Kurt hissed, keeping his back turned away from everyone, "Don't talk to him! What are you _doing?"_

"Blaine!" Mercedes smiled, brushing past Kurt and giving Kurt a look as she greeted the other boy.

"Hey Mercedes," Kurt heard Blaine say. Blaine sounded quiet and subdued and Kurt could practically feel Blaine's eyes on his back. "I wanted to talk to Kurt."

Kurt sighed. "What do you want Blaine?" he asked, turning to face the boy.

Blaine had those eyes on him and that kicked puppy face and he worried his lip as he stared at Kurt. "Earlier, I-"

"I don't _want _to hear about earlier," Kurt interrupted. "I distinctly remember telling you to leave me _alone."_

Blaine rolled his eyes like he couldn't help himself, "Please, Kurt. _Please, _drop the Ice Queen facade for a minute. _Please," _he continued softly, "let me just _show _you I meant what I said last night and that I'm _not _hurt. And I really _will _stop trying to be some mentor."

Kurt looked at him sceptically.

"I _know _you," Blaine went on, "I know what you feel and why you're so against everything, but I . . . I don't care what anyone says or what anyone _will _say," Blaine said earnestly, stepping forward. Everyone had now turned to watch, "I like you, Kurt! I really, _really _like you! And I want to _show _you, and maybe then you'll believe me."

Kurt was sure his mouth was hanging somewhere just off of the floor and _woah, _that probably wasn't attractive but Blaine just smiled and bounded back to the Warblers. Kurt felt a little dizzy. Had Blaine just said that? _Really? _In front of _everybody?_  
>Blaine turned back to Kurt, a few feet away. He climbed onto a log (Kurt really began worrying what Blaine's deal was with climbing on things) and looked right at Kurt.<p>

Then he started singing.

_"My gift is my song!  
>And this one's for you. . ."<em>

Kurt gasped and put his hands over his mouth. He recognised the song immediately. It was the Moulin Rouge version-Kurt's favourite version of the song, and most importantly Kurt's favourite movie.  
>Blaine grinned at Kurt's reaction and carried on,<p>

_"And you can tell everybody  
>That this is your song<br>It maybe quite simple  
>But now that it's done"<em>

Blaine got off of the log slowly and walked to Kurt, eyes wide and unsaid emotions crawling behind them.

"_Hope you don't mind_  
><em>I hope you don't mind<em>  
><em>That I put down in words<em>  
><em>How wonderful life is now you're in the world<em>"

Blaine reached Kurt and took the Kurt's hands away from Kurt's mouth and held them tightly. The New Directions stared and the Warblers stayed a few feet behind Blaine, grinning. Kurt glanced around nervously, _waiting _for someone to say something but Blaine caught his attention again. Blaine smiled gently as he sang softly to Kurt, singing only to him like no one had ever done before.

"_Sat on the roof  
>And I kicked off the moss<br>Well some of the verses well  
>They got me quite cross<br>But the sun's been kind  
>While I wrote this song<br>It's for people like you that  
>Keep it turned on<em>"

Kurt smiled tremulously as Blaine cupped his face and the Warblers began to harmonise in the background. Blaine moved closer, seeing Kurt wasn't going to scream or yell and was encouraged by it. Kurt tried to make sense of exactly _why _he wasn't doing those things but for now, he just knew the hazel colour of Blaine's eyes and the smooth thrill of Blaine's voice.

"_So excuse me for forgetting  
>But these things I do<br>You see I've forgotten  
>If they're green or they're blue<em>"

They grinned at one another and Kurt realised he didn't _have_to try and make sense of it.

"_Anyway the thing is what I really mean  
>Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen!"<em>

Blaine finished and Brad took over with his deep baritone, and as the New Directions and Warblers all chimed in for the instrumental harmonies Kurt made sense of a few things.

He wasn't scared anymore. He didn't care. As the New Directions sang around him, _encouraged _him and showed him through their singing that they loved him and accepted him he realised that liking Blaine _wasn't _a bad thing. He wasn't going to get beaten up or sneered at or _worse _because they accepted him. He didn't need to push Blaine away anymore. Inside, he was ready for this.

"_And you can tell everybody  
>This is your song<br>It may be quite simple  
>But now that it's done<br>I hope you don't mind  
>I hope you don't mind that I put down in words"<em>

Kurt stared in open awe as Blaine grinned sappily as he sang to Kurt, one hand cupped around Kurt's cheek and the other gently entwining itself with Kurt's own hand.

Kurt was ready to let himself be happy.

"_How wonderful life is now you're in the world  
>I hope you don't mind<br>I hope you don't mind that I put down in words"_

Kurt didn't want to shy away from his feelings anymore. After being rejected so much it was just second nature for him—he would bury those feelings under indifference, under stubbornness because he'd convinced himself so thoroughly that they weren't wanted by _anybody. _That _he _wasn't wanted.

And yet here Blaine was, and suddenly Kurt felt like the most wanted boy in the world. Blaine was singing to him infront _of everybody. _He was confessing his feelings for Kurt right there and then infront of Kurt's friends. Infront of his _own _friends. Everyone knew now- and Kurt didn't mind one bit.

He realised why it had taken him so long to realise his feelings and to finally let himself be happy- all along, he'd been waiting for Blaine.

"_How wonderful life is now you're in the world . . ."_

Blaine sang the last line and finished singing, his eyes boring into Kurt's. Kurt had never seen them so warm and liquid like before and Kurt could clearly see that _yes, _Blaine meant it. Blaine meant every word- he _did _like him. He didn't have to be afraid anymore. He didn't have to hide his joy or fear behind teasing and cold words. Blaine would accept him- because Blaine liked him.

As Kurt tried to count every faint freckle on Blaine's tan skin and memorise it, Blaine breathed, "So do you believe me?"

Kurt felt something unfamiliar but _oh so welcome_bubble in the pit of his stomach and rush through his veins. "Shut up and kiss me," he whispered.

And Blaine happily complied.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ***twirls happily* As the next chapter is the end of this fic, I think I can still say thank you and silently fan girl over you all without it being _too _repetitive. Thank you so very, very much for all your wonderful reviews, hits and favourites. I am eternally grateful to you all for your support of this fic. Thank you, and I hope I haven't disappointed any of you yet!

So, Kurt's finally realised pretty much everything and had his final stand. Now they're finally _together, _for everyone to see! The last chapter has a definite meloncholy feel to it and is a lot shorter than the other chapters, but I hope you like it anyway! I hope to get it up tomorrow morning as soon as, even though it'll all be over though I'm definitely still writing. Thank you again for the support and reviews.

The song used is "Your Song" by Ewan McGregor, from Moulin Rouge. The best version, in my eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt wasn't used to waking up to the sound of a guitar.

He kept his eyes shut and tried to stay as still as possible, assessing where he was through feel and by ear.

The guitar continued playing somewhere above him and Kurt felt something solid but soft at the same time shift slightly under his head. Birds were softly singing above him and he felt the uncomfortable texture of ground and pebbles beneath him.

He gathered he was on the floor, and lying on someone plucking at a guitar softly.

Kurt considered moving, but the mix of comfortable and uncomfortable made him lie still and wait a few more moments.

The sun shone onto his face. He felt its gentle warmth and the breeze ruffled his hair slightly. It felt nice.

He remembered what had happened now; after Blaine's _performance _everyone had started singing and somehow a few mash ups had turned into a full blown party. Holly and Mr Shue joined them when the sun went down and brought with them food from the dining hall (and somehow Puck had managed to crack into Holly's liquor cabinet inside her cabin and pretty much everyone except Kurt and Mr Shue had gotten drunk).

Kurt remembered slow dancing with Blaine as Wes crooned out "_The Way You Look Tonight", _the song becoming a duet when Mercedes got up and performed with him. Kurt also remembered having to then pick a drunk and giggling Blaine off of the floor at some point. The party had ended around dawn and everyone (except Sam and Quinn, who had staggered back to Quinn's cabin drunkenly and Kurt _really _didn't want to ask) had dropped to the ground beneath them and fell asleep.

Kurt had protested at first—come on, it was the _ground. _These were _McQueen _jeans. McQueen jeans should _never _touch the ground. But then Blaine had pulled him down with him and snuggled Kurt close, whispering about sleep and moonlight and twinkly eyes. Kurt realised in a few short moments of Blaine clinging and cuddling that Blaine was a very _touchy _person. Blaine would randomly reach out and twine their fingers together, or stroke the side of Kurt's cheek and giggle drunken songs into Kurt's ear.

Kurt found he didn't really mind.

The guitar plucking stopped and voice whispered softly to him.

"What are you smiling about?"

The rough edge of fingertips smoothed over Kurt's forehead and he felt a hand slip into his own.

Kurt smiled, eyes still shut. "You. Being drunk. You're a very clingy, happy drunk, did you know that?"

Soft, breathy laughter washed over Kurt's face. "Says you. I think I'm an awesome drunk."

Kurt laughed and then slowly opened his eyes.

Blaine stared down fondly at him, a dash of amusement in his eyes. The sun glanced off of his brow and nose and Kurt's own eyes roved over the faint freckles there. He looked back to Blaine eyes which were warm and rich looking. They smiled at each other. Blaine rubbed his thumb over the back of Kurt's hand and Kurt felt how callused it was. He glanced over to the guitar.

"You play?" he asked curiously, getting up slowly and shifting so he faced Blaine. Their hands were still clasped and Blaine began tracing Kurt's fingers, looking down sheepishly.

Kurt watched Blaine smooth his fingers over his Kurt's. It was so _stupid _to get such a thrill from the simple touch of someone touching his _fingers- _but since when did this ever happen to him? The gesture seemed almost too intimate, almost too much. Kurt began blushing as Blaine's fingers brushed softly over his knuckles. Yep, definitely stupid.

_Oh, could you _be _any more of a touch-starved virgin? _Kurt asked himself sardonically.

Blaine gave a half shrug. He kept his head down. "It's Mr Shue's. I saw him playing it last night—_before _I got drunk, because after that everything's just one big messy _blur—_and I wanted to . . . play again. I haven't picked up a guitar in a while. I woke up and it was next to me- he must have left it there."

"Will you play me something?" Kurt asked eagerly. He grinned at Blaine's half hearted grimace, but he detracted his hand from Kurt's and picked up the guitar.

Kurt didn't know whether this it was this new found affection, the quiet, blissful atmosphere around them or maybe he just had a _thing _for guys with guitars that he'd never knew about—but when Blaine positioned himself with the guitar, head bent low over the neck, curls falling softly forward and fingers softly strumming suddenly against the strings, Kurt's mouth dropped open and all he could think was oh my _God._

Blaine strummed and began humming quietly. Kurt stared in awe; the quiet air around them was filled with Blaine's soft plucking. Kurt recognised the melody—_I See The Light _from _Tangled. _Kurt snorted but his heart trembled at the appropriateness of the song.

"Your love for Disney is slightly scary. First _Kiss the Girl, _now this?"

Blaine looked up and smirked. "Hey, you think I'm bad? Wes _only _watches Disney movies. He can quote _Aladdin _backwards." He absentmindedly plucked again and Kurt watched Blaine's fingers dance across the strings and the muscles tense in Blaine's bare arms.

Then Blaine began playing _A Moment Like This _and Kurt was knocked out of his fascinated stupor. He laughed loudly.

"Really, Blaine? You little cheeseball."

Blaine pouted but Kurt saw the warm light in Blaine's eyes. "Watch the _little_ jokes, Porcelain." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Blaine played a few random tunes of his own. A half hearted melody he was playing melded into _Your Song _and Blaine suddenly looked right at Kurt, lips bowed into a soft smile. Kurt actually questioned his sanity for a second as he thought _oh my God, kiss the hell out of him right now _frantically.

Kurt just smiled widely, almost too widely to be contained and shifted so he could bury his face in Blaine's shoulder.

How had he ever lived without this? The warm feel of another's body under his, the soft touch of fabric under his cheek, the irrevocable feeling of being wanted and liked.

They stayed like that for a while; Kurt wrapped around Blaine's side, head fitting perfectly into Blaine's collarbone, Blaine plucking away, rapidly changing between songs. Kurt listened, enthralled.

Eventually, he broke the silence. "Do you think this will last?"

The doubt had been worming its way in slowly, tainting every new moment with Blaine.

Blaine frowned and Kurt watched the way Blaine's eyebrows dipped. Blaine didn't have to ask what he meant.

"Truthfully? I hope so." Blaine replied, shrugging his one shoulder. "Is it stupid that I've only known you for a week but I feel . . . I feel I could really love you," he laughed softly and Kurt felt Blaine's shoulder vibrate beneath him, "despite us hating each other at first." He was quiet again. "It just fits. It seems right that we should always end up together in the end. How stupid is that?"

For once Kurt was rendered speechless. Whatever he had been thinking had just been so effortlessly put into words. He wondered if Blaine would always do that—take Kurt's feelings and insecurities and most secret thoughts and put them into soft spoken, gentle words.

Kurt turned his head slightly and placed a feather light kiss to Blaine's neck. "It's not stupid at all."

* * *

><p>They tried to keep themselves together. They talked every night and Skyped and every other week they'd try their hardest to see each other.<p>

Eventually though, the distance was beginning to make their relationship crumble without either of them realising. It was always the hghest obstacle they would try to hurdle over during coffee or a particular busy late night phone call, and was the usual fight starter—fights which were becoming more and more frequent Kurt realised, once he thought about it.

They drifted, as most long-distance relationships did and eventually the texts petered out and finally they just stopped talking all together. They did other things and got on with their lives.

Kurt only let himself think of Blaine late at night, when all his homework was done and he was trying to scrub the grape-slushie from his new coat or while he was curled up in bed, clutching his phone and desperately wishing for a call.

He missed Blaine- and he hated that he missed him. He missed him so much that sometimes he'd stop in the middle of the hallways of McKinley and try to catch his breath, because _something_ had reminded him of Blaine's green-hazel eyes, or 'their' song, or the simple way Blaine used to catch Kurt's eyes and smile. It tore the breath from him but he chided himself and moved on, forgetting the moment until later when he was safely away from curious eyes.

He told himself it was so _stupid _to miss Blaine.

But until Blaine he's always found himself not quite whole, not all there. Blaine had changed him for the better—Kurt didn't let clothes or sharp, cold words talk for him anymore. He'd faced up to his insecurities and fears that week away and it couldn't be reversed. He held himself better now. He wasn't scared anymore.

Without Blaine though, he felt invisible. He would get a horrible ache in his chest that not even belting out his most favourite song could get rid of.

He missed Blaine and it was too late to do anything about it.

Blaine was gone. Blaine had moved on from Kurt and he wasn't coming back.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't usually stop at that coffee shop. Usually, it was a quick cup before he went to school in the morning but he'd woken up late and there hadn't been time.<p>

Sending a quick text to Mercedes, he ducked into the coffee shop and stood in line.

Kurt fiddled with his scarf absentmindedly and tapped his foot, half listening to the sound system: Katy Perry's _Teenage Dream _began playing.

Kurt moved forward to order.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with a text; with one hand he took his coffee and thanked the server, and with the other reached into his pocket and took his phone out.

He froze when he read the caller id. _Blaine._

Kurt's hand shook and he gaped at the screen. Should he read it? Should he ignore it?

With trembling fingers he pressed _Read. _

_From: Blaine_

_You see I've forgotten if, they're green or they're blue._

Every nerve cell in Kurt's body frazzled wildly and he shook all over. What did _that _mean? One month of no contact and suddenly _this? _Kurt staggered forward and randomly sat down at a free table. He placed his coffee down and stared at the screen.

The door swung open behind him. Kurt stayed put, the time slowly trickling on as he gaped at the text. What should he put?

He heard footsteps behind him.

Then someone began singing:

"_Anyway the thing is, what I really mean . . ."_

Kurt gasped and turned so fast he nearly knocked his coffee over. His hands flew to his mouth.

There Blaine stood, eyes wide and imploring as he gazed at Kurt. Blaine's hair looked different and he was wearing a particularly _awful _uniform but right then Kurt didn't care. He didn't care right then (though he certainly would later) that Blaine hadn't spoken to him for months. Kurt would chew him out over it later and would make Blaine grovel and beg for him back. But that was later.

Right now though, Kurt shakily got to his feet, his eyes wide and he could feel the tears prick at his eyes.

Blaine looked so sincere that Kurt couldn't really help how his heart thrummed at the sight.

"_Yours are the sweetest eyes that I've ever seen . . ."_

Blaine drifted off and moved forward hesitantly, cautiously. "I have some explaining to do."

Kurt nodded. He didn't know how to explain it, but for the first time in a month and a half, suddenly having Blaine _there _singing only to him _finally _made him stop aching so hard.

Kurt ghosted forward until he was only inches away from Blaine. Blaine looked up at him hopefully.

With an easy grace and simplicity, Kurt leant down and kissed Blaine. He didn't know why he did it. He just had to; every cell in his body screamed for release, begged him to gently touch his lips to Blaine's. Never had a feeling felt more right to him.

Later, they would talk. Later Blaine would explain himself and maybe they could have what they'd had before.

Blaine had been right. It _was_ right that they should always end up together in the end.

No matter what.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **It's done! It's finished! What did you think? Good? _Not _good? I did originally have a different ending, and the last scene was split into Blaine _and _Kurt's POV, but I found this version flowed so much easier. I also think it leaves something to be desired, maybe? I feel like I wasn't ready to give this up and wrote a very ambiguous ending, aha. Anyway- thank you all so, so, _so _much for your hits and reviews. To say you've made me happy is an _understatement. _When I began writing this I had no _idea _you would love it so much and give me such brilliant support. You have made me so happy, and thank you for reading this and sticking by it and reviewing. I hope I haven't disappointed any of you and I hope you've enjoyed it. It has been an incredible fic to write and I've really enjoyed writing it myself. It has enabled my confidence in my writing to grow and your support has encouraged me to keep going. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!


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